


Fate

by Sarah Problem (SarahProblem)



Series: Come With Me [15]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Complete, Episode: s03e23 All Our Yesterdays, Established Relationship, Family Drama, M/M, Married Couple, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-05-07 00:09:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 45,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14659089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarahProblem/pseuds/Sarah%20Problem
Summary: Winona turned to him with a smile. "I'm your mother, Jim. I'm saving you."





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> While this is tagged as related to the TOS episode, "All Our Yesterdays", this is not a retelling of that story. I have used the planet Sarpeidon and their technology from that episode to tell a different story. So, fans of the original series may recognize those elements as they appear.

   

 

Fate

by Sarah Problem

 

If you do not create your destiny, you will have your fate inflicted upon you.

-William Irwin Thompson

 

 

 

 

Doctor Winona Kirk scribbled frantically on the sheet of real paper in front of her, the old carbon pencil making a soft scratching sound. The background noise of the busy cafeteria around her provided no distractions. The noises having been shuffled to the back of her mind decades ago. She had picked at her lunch, anxious to be back to work at her desk. But there were still a few minutes left on her mandatory one-hour lunch break.

Since the psychologists had ordered that she set regular hours away from her office and took regular breaks, she had complied. But they had not specifically ordered her to stay away from her project on those breaks. Especially this one, which they'd never find out about. And neither would her team. No one could, or she'd be taken off the project. Labeled as untrustworthy and put under a strict watch.

So far, she was sure they did not suspect. She was careful to keep it that way. The long equations and cryptic notes wound around and through the drawings she made. These were just doodles, not like her real drawings, like the ones of George that she worked on when she was stuck, or stalled, or too tired to think. Those she saved. These were just camouflage for her real work.

"Doctor Kirk."

Her boss and the head of Tri-Fold's Research and Development for this sector, Amajaro Javelar, was standing in front of her table. Javelar, a Hekaran, had the dark hair, dark eyes and the cross-shaped cranial and temple ridges of his kind, giving him what appeared to most Terrans to be an air of persistent disapproval. His all-black business attire only added to the foreboding feeling his presence induced.

He may intimidate the other scientists, but not Winona. She knew that she was too valuable for him to dismiss or treat casually.

"May I interrupt your lunch?" he asked, politely nodding his head in the Hekaran way.

Winona steeled her face and nodded politely. Javelar requests were never really requests. They were orders. She made no move to cover or even look at the work in front of her. Javelar would not be surprised to see her at work and he could not read her notes. Math wasn't his strong suit.

"I see you've taken some time to mingle," Javelar said as he sat down across from her. "I'm glad you've taken our psychologist's advice."

 _Their orders, you mean,_ Winona thought sourly, giving Javelar a meaningless smile.  _Why all this fuss over how I spend my non-working time? None of my time is non-working. They know that._

"I do tend to spend a lot of time in my cabin, when I'm off duty," Winona admitted tightly. She let the silence linger.

"How is your family?"

_Of course, you already know. Don't you listen to my calls?_

Winona didn't know for sure that they recorded her communications, but she was under no illusions here. Tri-Fold was desperate for results. They demanded a lot from their scientists, including personal sacrifices. And they didn't really trust them. They weren't going to let any of their secrets slip from those who actually made the discoveries or allow them to be sold to the highest bidder on the black markets. So, it only made sense that Tri-Fold would keep close tabs on their hired help.

"They're fine," she said shortly. "I talked to both of my sons only yesterday, on my youngest's birthday."

"Captain James T. Kirk's birthday, I would imagine."

"Yes.  _His_  birthday," Winona said, sitting back in her chair.

"A day that will live in infamy for many, I'm sure," Javelar gave her a meaningless smile while his eyes watched her closely.

Winona frowned. Javelar knew everything about her, which was a lot considering she'd worked for Tri-Fold for almost seventeen years now.

_Why point out the date? He knows how it affects me._

"I would say," she began, repeating her psychologist's words, "the loss of Vulcan will be a life-long trauma for far more than those who lost loved ones on the Kelvin. May I be frank and ask why the interruption of what is supposed to be my  _free_  time? Time your psychologists  _insist_ I take off?"

Javelar's smile vanished and he nodded. "Ever to the point, Doctor. As it should be. I can't tell you how refreshing I find that for a human. Now, to get down to business," Javelar leaned forward, this time his smile looked sincere, if a bit predatory. "We  _have_ it."

Winona froze, then took a deep breath and placed her pencil down carefully. This was  _huge_. This could change everything.

"You have finally found an Atavachron."

Javelar gave her a rare, true smile. "Yes. We found it in the Orion system. Most of Sarpeidon's artifacts went to those scavengers. Whoever looted the library took various pieces of computer equipment as well as the disks."

"To time travel," Winona said under her breath. Flashes of George flashed through her mind, bringing with them the tell-tale hint of an approaching migraine. She rubbed at her forehead. "It's what we've been looking for. All this  _time_..."

_We can do it. With the disks and the Atavachron itself, I **know**  we can. To finally be able to time travel..._

"It's on its way here, to the  _Sitta Caesia_ , where the Atavachron will be delivered under high security. I'll have the data on its purchase history and condition sent to your office computer this afternoon. You will need to work with the ship's engineers to make sure you have the type of power from the engines you need to run the artifacts. I expect you and your team will be ready to test run the device, with the disks, as soon as possible."

"On the ship?" Winona raised an eyebrow. "No planet-based tests first?"

"Not this time," Javelar said gravely. "We need to keep this project on the move. We have word that Starfleet is looking for the same pieces and our...  _acquisition_  may not have been exactly...  _Federation_  legal. There is an empty system we can use for our experiments that isn't monitored or in anyone's territory. We should be able to test from within that system without drawing any unwanted attention."

"How soon can we get there?" Winona asked.

"Between delivery of the Atavachron and our trip there, you will have about ten days to prepare a test for us, Doctor."

"And the first hypothesis to be tested?" Winona asked.

"Let's just see if we can  _see_  into the past before taking larger steps, Doctor," Javelar said. "Nothing too dangerous to our own timeline, if you will."

"I'll need solar maps of the area we'll be testing in," Winona said. "With all the data on the planets and their moons, any asteroid movements, and any histories of travel nearby."

Javelar nodded. "Agreed. We will, of course, be on strict subspace silence once we reach the system. So, make sure you have everything ready before we arrive there."

"You think someone may be watching us?" Winona asked eyebrow raised. "Keeping track of us?"

"It never hurts to be careful," Javelar replied. "Now that we can reunite the two pieces of Sarpeidon technology, anything we can learn from this point on should bring us that much closer to having time travel at our fingertips. All safeguards must be in place."

"We still need a Portal," Winona said. "The disks and the Atavachron are vital, but it's a Portal we need to find."

"All of Tri-Fold's resources are still searching, Doctor. Give it a bit more time." Javelar stood and turned to leave. He threw his last words over his shoulder. "I expect results, Doctor. As soon as possible."

 _So, do I,_ Winona thought. She felt surprised to see that her hands trembling. She looked down at her equations.  _So soon, now. I can almost taste it!_

She picked up her pencil once again and tried to clear her mind and heart of hope. All her work over all these years would mean nothing if she couldn't get to where she wanted to go, be where she wanted to be. Calming herself, she turned her mind back to her personal project, ignoring the other scientists and researchers around her. She jumped back into her math, feeling inspiration hit her as it rarely had these last few years.

Then, when her lunch was officially over, she took one more look at her notes, placed them on her food tray and then recycled them with the debris of her lunch.

_So close. I'm getting **so**  close!_

***

 

Winona Kirk paced the testing chamber on the  _Sitta Caesia_ , arms crossed in an effort to keep herself from touching the artifacts in the room. After what felt like the longest week of Winona's life, they finally had the working Sarpeidon disks in place and the Atavachron hooked up, ready to test.

Four of the working disks, from the ten that Tri-Fold had been able to acquire, had been mounted to a console beside the Atavachron. A thick cable linked the Atavachron and the library disks to the ship's main power supply and to each other. They'd be able to pull energy to supply half a Terran city block and yet no one knew if that would be enough. The techs in the room were all at their stations and the tension was almost palatable.

They had had so many failures in getting the small disks to activate. It had taken years to even understand the basic science, let alone figure out how to make them function. Even with the translations of Sarpeidon's written texts, which Winona was now an expert at reading, so little mention was made of their own technology. Small manuals, repair instructions... they were the only clues Tri-Fold been able to find on how the Sarpeidon technology came together. And the Time Portal was no every-day item, even on Sarpeidon.

 _It **has**  to work this time, _Winona thought as she scanned all the screens in front of her.  _All the new computations and formulas say that it **should**._

"We're ready, Doctor Kirk."

Winona turned and left the room, securing the blast door behind her.

Her personal assistant, Kinder Wyatt, was a personable young human woman who was almost as brilliant as Winona was. Winona could trust her to have checked and cross-checked all the settings and security features before pronouncing them ready. Wyatt, as well as the other seven of her team, were very good at their jobs. They had to be, or Winona wouldn't put up with them.

"Dim the lights. All stations look alert," Winona ordered loudly. "I want  _every_  second of this test recorded in every way possible. Alert Captain Lee that we're ready to begin."

"The bridge reports ship's systems ready," one of the techs announced.

"Thirty-second countdown, starting... now."

The alarms sounded, echoing through the ship and the tension grew.

The thirty-second countdown started, and Winona forced herself to breathe through them.

"Three... two... one."

Winona could hear when the artifacts started to draw power and she would have sworn she had felt a tiny tremor run through the ship. The four mounted disks slowly started to show some life, glowing faintly at the edges. Then three of the four started a rolling flicker across their round surface.

"Readings on D-disk unstable," one of the technicians announced.

"It's out of phase with the others," someone else announced.

"Pulling 80% power," another stated.

"D-disk team, get that one in phase to  _match_  frequencies," Winona ordered.

_We're missing something. We **know**  what kind of energy the Sarpeidon's used and how they fed it into their system. These disks contained some kind of focus for the Atavachron. I  **know**  they do._

She watched the monitor in front of her closely, eyes on the magnified view of the four small disks. Slowly, the fourth disk's screen rippled and rolled until it matched the others and then in split second all four disks showed a different scene.

"Frequency matches!"

Without any action on anyone's part, the Atavachron screen and control panel suddenly lit up, flickering as the disks had.

"Get those readings!" Winona ordered. "Do we have feedback between them?"

"We do!" Wyatt exclaimed. "The Atavachron seems to be drawing data  **from**  the disks. But only one."

Winona pulled up the screen Wyatt was seeing.

"The lower left," Winona said, then frowned. "Wait! It's now switched to the upper left. Now it's switched again. It's trying to pull information from all of them at once. I don't think--"

There was an audible whine stressed system as the control room's lights dimmed and the room containing the disks and Atavachron flickered and went black. In the dark, Winona suddenly felt as if she was submerged in a pool of thick, warm liquid that slowed her movements and thoughts. A buzzing wave flowed through her like a tide, drawing her away. Then, a second later, the sensation was gone as the emergency lights came on and warning sirens and red lights flashed all around her.

"Shut it down!" Winona ordered. She found herself shaking as she worked at her console, trying to ignore her body's fear response.

_Thank God the test systems have their own power supply. Otherwise, everything would have slammed off. That kind of shutdown could have been damaging to the artifacts._

"We pulled 100% power," one of the techs yelled shakily. "Automatic shutdown of the ship's local systems."

The light came up full and Winona looked around her, relief flooding her that everything seemed to still be working.

"I want full reports!" Winona ordered the shaken crew. "I want everything we were set up to test for, and a list of every damn thing we should have tested for the first time but missed."

_What was that pulse I felt? From the looks of the crew, they felt it too. Was that the Atavachron? If so, what was it trying to do?_

_We'll need to get everyone to medical to document any changes in our systems. There may be a clue there._

"Another failure?" Amajaro Javelar asked grimly from behind her.

Winona turned, not realizing Javelar had entered the room.

_Of course, he would be here. His whole job is to keep an eye on us. And pick at our mistakes._

She turned to the datascreen beside her and brought up the vid of the four disks. She nodded for him to join her.

"I wouldn't say failure," Winona said, keeping her voice low. She nodded toward the image they'd captured of the four disks during the experiment.

"Four different scenes?" Javelar asked, clearly unimpressed. "So, you've managed to access someone's very expensive vid collection."

Winona fought not to roll her eyes. "Look closer, Sir."

Javelar looked at the recording of the four disks. One showed a scenic valley with some sort of aircar flying over. Another showed a busy street, full of ancient cars and dirty brick buildings. The third showed a snowscape and some primitive shelters, and the fourth a crowded beach scene with a setting sun. All four were full of movement, either of crowds, vehicles, or clouds.

Javelar did, then frowned and looked at her. "I see nothing significant."

"The sun," Winona said with a slight smile. She enlarged the small data report that the computer had placed beside each picture. "The  _sun_  in those scenes, Sir. That's Sarpeidon's sun and the coordinating measurements of its closeness to supernova."

"They are recordings," Javelar said with impatience.

"No, Sir." Winona shook her head and tapped at the data on the screen. "Those were  _live_ readings, not recordings. When the disks were active, we were able to record not just the size, luminosity and visual age of it, as if from a recording. But we were also able to record and document the radiation, temperal zones and the exact state of its fusion process as well. Readings we  _can't_  get from mere recordings."

Winona turned to look at Javelar with a small smile. "The scenes on the disk were  _not_ just records of times in Sarpeidon's past. They became  _windows_  we could see through. Of a sun that destroyed itself only years ago."

Javelar almost smiled. "I think we  _finally_ have something, Doctor." Javelar said with a slight nod.

 _"Something_ ," she agreed with a frown. "But being able to see into the past isn't traveling there. We need to get the Atavachron working. Figure out what part it plays in this technology. And we need a Sarpeidon Portal."

Javelar studied her face. "You do not think we can back engineer our own Portal, from the artifacts themselves."

"No," Winona shook her head. "It will take years to understand the disks, even if we can break into them and leave the technology intact. And we face the decision of sacrificing a working disk or opening a non-functioning one and not knowing where the damage is. Then there's the study of the Atavachron. We know it was import to Sarpeidon time travel, but we don't know what its function was. That may also take many years. We are nowhere near coming close to creating an actual  _Portal_. Finding an intact, functioning one could jump-start our research half a century, or more."

"I see your point," Javelar said grimly. "Then we shall have to keep looking for one."

"Doctor," Wyatt said excitedly as she came up to the two of them. "Pardon me, but the Captain of the  _Sitta Caserta_ has some information from its sister ship, the  _Coma Nestru_. That pulse we all felt before the power went out? The Captain of the  _Sitta Caserta_  has reported that he's getting frantic calls from the rest of the ship. It seems everyone on board felt it, but none of the ship sensors recorded what it was. The  _Coma Nestru_  seems to have been outside the field of the phenomena. They've recorded it as a  _time distortion wave_."

A thrill washed through Winona and she closed her eyes to try and control her response. She wanted to laugh and smile and celebrate, but this was not the time.

_Time distortion? A phenomenal breakthrough, if true! After all this time, something actually **works**._

"Well, congratulations on the first step, Doctor Kirk." Javelar said with a small bow. "I assume that you have a next step in your experiments?"

"It will take days to go through all of the data," Winona said, hoping she sounded calm and professional. "But now that we have seen how the disks work, we can now try to activate them one by one."

"And as you have five more of them to test, I will leave you to your work, Doctor." Javelar turned and left the control room.

Winona took a huge breath to steady herself.

"Congratulations, Doctor!" Wyatt whispered excitedly.

" _Not_  yet," Winona warned her, but smiled to take the edge off of it. "Let's get back to work. I want every piece of information we can get from this experiment before I authorize another. If so much as a microbe in this room twitched during the experiment, I want to know. Alert the MedBay that I want all technicians to have a full body scan and evaluation. Now."

"On my way," Wyatt said with a smile as she turned to implement Winona's orders.

 _So close!_ Winona thought happily.  _So close to fixing everything!_

But she tried to contain herself. There was so  _much_  work to do.

 

***

 

Jim Kirk came out of his morning shower feeling wide awake and ready to go. Last night had been the final evening with the whole family on Deneva. They'd had a great time these last ten days of vacation.

While Sam and Aurelan had had to spend more time helping John run down the spy's connections, that had given Jim and Bones a bit more time to themselves and their new apartment. They'd spent the last ten days visiting when they could, shopping when they couldn't, sightseeing the local area around their new home, and breaking in their new furniture the mature way.

With lots of sex.

Lots of loud, vigorous,  _'make memories on the new furniture'_  sex.

The apartment was starting to look lived in, with two new bedroom sets, a huge, comfortable couch and matching chairs, coffee and end tables and a large dining table just outside the kitchen area. The latest model of datascreen in the living room took up almost the whole end wall. The place still looked a bit too new, since both of them had refrained from buying any knick-knacks, wall art or other decorations because of what they had stored on Luna. But it now looked much homier than it had when they'd gotten the 'keys' less than two weeks ago. 

The kitchen itself was now loaded with all kinds of appliances, tools, and dinnerware to prepare food for an army. Which they practically had the night before when the whole family had come over for dinner. All cooked from scratch by Jim and Bones.

And from what Jim could tell it had been a great evening, enjoyed by everyone, even if it had been a little sad to say all their goodbyes. But even the best vacations had to come to an end and it had meant everything to him and Bones to have their whole family come and share their last evening.

Now, this afternoon, they'd catch a taxi to the terminal after one last lunch on Deneva and head back to the _Enterprise_. But even with getting back to the _Enterprise_ to look forward to, Jim had felt a little disgruntled upon awakening. He'd intended to wake Bones up to some very sweet and tender attention, then get one of them fucked one last time on their very own planet-side bed. Bottom or top, he didn't care. He loved both. But Bones had apparently gotten up earlier and Jim had woken up alone and hard.

He had plans on taking care of that.

Jim walked naked into the large front room. Opposite the doors to the bedrooms and guest 'fresher, was the large floor to ceiling, seamless, window. Made of clear, self-cleaning crystal, the one-way window took up the whole wall from the kitchen to the building's corner. Outside, only meters away across the small but well-tended front lawn, people were going about their mid-morning business along the street. Set a bit above street level, the passing crowd would have gotten a really intimate show if the window had been two-way. But the building code demanded only one-way windows on ground floors, which could be turned opaque at any time to shut out the world. Now, they were clear from inside the apartment and the rays of the mid-morning sun lit up much of the floor in a dappled pattern as it shone through the trees and into their apartment.

It reminded Jim a bit of their honeymoon and the clear-domed room. If you didn't count the people walking by.

But it was the sight in the kitchen that demanded Jim's attention.

Bones stood there, in a tight t-shirt and boxer combination that showed off his long limbs, lean torso and deliciously muscular ass. His hair, newly trimmed in town yesterday, stood up in a thick ruffle of hair that framed his face most fetchingly. He had, apparently, decided to give the kitchen a last clean before his shower and shave. The dark stubble on Bones's cheeks and chin made him look all rough and tumbled.

 _God, what he does to me,_ Jim thought, grinning evilly as his erection grew harder.  _How can anyone see him and not want to climb all over him? Even with his uniform on he's a looker._

The sight only made Jim want to tumble the gorgeous man some more.

"Well, someone's  _up_  and around this morning," Bones said from the kitchen, a raised eyebrow and a crooked smile showing he appreciated Jim's naked and erect state. He stood at the sink, hand washing some of last night's dishes. His smile grew lecherous as he studied Jim further. "Damn, good thing those windows are one-way. We'd have people beating down our door to get to you and I don't fucking share."

" _Someone_  messed up my morning plans by getting up early to  _clean_ ," Jim said casually, smiling evilly as he walked slowly to the kitchen, his hard cock bobbing as he walked. " _Clean_ , for heaven's sake. When this someone could have stayed in bed and been my breakfast."

"Oh, really?" Bones asked with a smile as he placed the last dish in the drain, dried his hands on a nearby towel and turned to lean a hip against the counter. There was no mistaking Bones's growing interest. His cock growing heavy and only thinly covered by his boxers. "What would that meal have consisted of and who would this  _someone_  be, may I ask?"

"It starts with this tall..." Jim said, his tone thick and sultry as he walked slowly to Bones, "...dark-haired, hazel-eyed sex god. Who's so incredibly gorgeous that he makes me hard and needy just by looking at him. Makes me want to  _do things_  to him."

"Oh,  _that_  guy?" Bones's smile turned into a full leer as he pushed away from the counter. "And what kind of things would you have had in mind for this poor soul?"

Jim chuckled as he came up to Bones and took him in his arms, pressing his erection against Bones's cloth covered crotch. Bones's breath caught, and Jim could see the start of a hot flush on his cheeks.

"I'm thinking..." Jim leaned in to kiss him, "that we should break in that new couch of ours. Christen it properly."

Bones, his arms now resting on Jim's shoulders and his eyes growing hooded, pulled back a bit.

"Hmmm... As I recall, you and this sex god broke that in sometime during the first hour it was delivered. _After_  properly breaking in the master bed, the guest bed and both 'freshers, but  _before_  the dining room table."

"The _front_  of the couch, yes. But my plan this morning is to bend this sex god over the back and fuck him till he begs for  _mercy_."

"I think this sex god of yours might agree to that," Bones said as he pulled Jim in for another kiss, then smiled evilly. "Let me know when you two hook up. I may want to watch."

"Sorry," Jim said, lips brushing the turned-up nose he loved, "but it's just him and me. You'll have to find your own sex god."

Bones laughed. "I have."

He kissed Jim hard, opening his mouth to invite him in. They kissed passionately, and Jim could feel Bones's cock against his as Bones's hands grabbed what hair he could on Jim's head. Long fingers worked at Jim's skull as they kissed, Bones keeping their heads together while Jim touched the lean musculature of Bones's back under his shirt. Pressed close, Jim rubbed his cock against Bones's body, loving the soft slide of cotton over the firmness of stomach muscles.

When they pulled apart for air, Jim dropped down to his knees, pulling Bones's shorts down with him. Bones's cock flew up as it was released, hard against his t-shirt covered stomach. Jim took it in hand, stroking it and listening to Bones's breath hitch and deepen. When he took it into his mouth, Bones moaned deeply. Jim sucked him, varying his angle and running his tongue over the head and shaft.

" _God_. Jim," Bones said around a gasp. Then he moaned, his voice going gravelly low. "So good. So  _good_ , Sweet Thing."

Jim kept up the attention to Bones's cock, reaching down to rub at his own erection in a way that would keep him hard, but never satisfy. He knew a second before Bones pushed his head back that Bones had reached his limit.

"Now, Jim," Bones hissed. "Fuck me now!"

Jim released him and took Bones's hand, pulling him toward the couch. Bones balked.

"Wait. The windows," Bones said, looking at the street view with concern.

" _Can't_  see us," Jim said with an evil smile, walking close to kiss Bones again.

"I know, but--"

Jim took Bones's spit-slicked cock in hand once again and Bones lost his train of thought and he gasped.

" _No one_  can see us. It's _our_  apartment. It's  _safe_ ," Jim assured, seeing Bones's dilated eyes close in bliss as he stroked him. Slowly, he led him further into the front area, in front of the windows.

"And if they could, they'd just have eyes for you. You're so  _gorgeous_ , Bones. So  _hot_. Makes me want to fuck you all day. Suck you off. Taste you in my mouth and have you inside me as well. Want to rub myself all over you. Smell you when you're all randy and anxious."

Jim could see when Bones stopped caring about the world outside of them. His eyes flashed, and he brought Jim in for another kiss, this one almost bruising as he crushed Jim to him.

"So, that's a yes?" Jim asked against Bones's lips.

"Oh, hell...  _yes_!"

Jim gave him another kiss, then went to the closest end table and opened it, pulling out the lube he'd stashed there the night before.

"One day, you're going to get us arrested," Bones said with certainty, a crooked smile on his face as Jim came back to him. "And then you'll want to do it in  _jail_. Uhura's going to have to spot us a fortune in bail money."

Jim chuckled deeply. "And you'll  _love_  every second of it."

"Probably," Bones said with a shake of his head. "Heaven help me."

"There is  _no_  help for you," Jim said, guiding Bones to turn around. "You're stuck with me and my  _evil_  ways."

Bones widened his stance as he bent himself over the back of the couch and let Jim arrange him. Jim almost groaned at the sight, loving the way Bones presented himself, the look of those strong buttocks, hanging testicles and the peek at his heavy cock now pushed downward, so that there would be no friction until Jim took him in hand again.

Jim covered his fingers with lube and carefully prepared Bones, listening for the tell-tale breathing and sub-vocal moans that told him he was getting Bones ready and wanting him even more. He smiled to himself, noticing Bones's furtive looks out the window and how his cheeks flushed even more when he did.

_You're so hot. So gorgeous. They don't know what they're missing, not being able to see you like this. And you like a bit of danger. A bit of naughtiness. You stay safe because you need to be, not necessarily because you_ **want** _to be. And you trust me to find a way for you be naughty, without any real danger in it._

_I have a feeling I'm creating a monster and someday you'll want to do something that'll freak even me out._

_And I'll_ **love** _it._

Jim worked carefully to ready him and then started massaging Bones's prostate. Bones gasped, and his body tightened when Jim found it, rising on his toes to deepen Jim's reach inside him.

Jim's own body burned. His cock started leaking in anticipation. When Bones made that tell-tale sound, a low moan that ended on a gasp of disappointment when Jim stopped and pulled his fingers out, Jim knew he was ready. Jim positioned himself behind Bones, centering the head of his cock on Bones's anus and pushed slowly.

Bones gasped and bent further over, as he went on his toes again. He braced his hands on the couch cushions, his head down and ass high as Jim bottomed out inside him.

"God.  _God_." Bones gasped, almost sounding surprised at how good it felt. "Hard, Jim. Hit me  _there_. Hard."

Jim fought to keep the angle right, pulled back and slammed forward, getting the combination of grunt-whine that meant he'd hit his target. Jim's heart, pumping hard now, set the pace as Jim plunged over and over into that hot, tight space. Jim knew his mate, knew how long and how deep he needed to thrust in order to bring Bones to the very edge of climax.

Even though Jim's cock was sending sweet and lovely signals to his own brain, demanding a frantic pounding for itself, Jim held back. Soon, he was gasping with the fight to keep control, to not let go while listening to Bones lose his vocabulary. A long, drawn out and almost keening rendition of "Fuck! Fuck!" as he reached the edge echoed around the room.

Bones's hips under his hands as he thrust, Jim could feel the play of muscles in the well-formed ass, could tell when his sounds signaled that he'd reach the edge of that cliff. Jim thrust once more, hard and leaned on Bones's back, pulling him back from the edge of the couch just enough to give Bones's cock room to rise again. Jim's hand, still slick with lube, fisted Bones from the base to the head, then off and started at the base again, pulling up and up and up and never down.

Bones gasped and his whole body clenched, and Jim felt the pulse of Bones's climax in his hand. A thumb on the sensitive tip felt the jet of cum as Bones whined and then ejaculated again.

Jim's hips started their thrusting again and he released Bones, settled himself squarely behind Bones's ass and fucked him.

Jim closed his eyes. He let his brain focus on his body and gave over to the primal need to reach his own peak and come. He lost the rhythm, then struggled to settle as deeply in Bones as he could and climaxed. It hit him hard. He strained over each pulse, each ejaculation, floating for the fraction of a second between each of them.

He took a deep breath when his climax died down, eyes closed and feeling the kind of peace and satisfaction that he'd yet to find elsewhere. He massaged Bones's back and pulled down his scrunched-up t-shirt. He never wanted to come down from this or leave his lover's body.

Bones, his head pillowed on his arms on top of the couch, was still breathing hard. Jim could feel the tremors in Bones's body as he cooled down.

"Window,  _opaque_ ," Jim ordered, knowing it would make Bones feel more comfortable to relax in something that looked more private.

"Damned  _exhibitionist_ ," Bones groused weakly.

"You  _loved_  it, don't lie," Jim said with a smile, moving carefully inside Bones as he tried to keep seated while his cock calmed. "Wait until we get to some really kinky stuff. I didn't have years of practice for nothing, you know. I was building up a portfolio of sexual adventures for us."

"Now, you really _are_  scaring me," Bones complained, obviously in no hurry to have Jim pull out.

Just as Jim was about to do so, the house comm went off, a mechanical voice announcing the call.

' **Doctor David McCoy calling. Doctor David McCoy calling**.'

"Voice mail," Bones said with a sigh. "Call him back."

Jim held his place. "Might be important. Accept call,  _no vid!"_

"Jim!" Bones hissed, embarrassment in his voice as he suddenly tensed.

"Hey, David. What's up?" Jim ask casually, smiling at the fact he was still buried balls deep in Bones's ass.

He felt Bones's embarrassed whine through his hands on Bones's ribs.

"Hey, Jim! Sam's closed the lab for the day. He and John are going to go over the computer network changes with Sam's boss. Everyone else got the day off, including me. So, if you don't have any plans, we can meet for brunch and I can take you both to the terminal afterward. No use taking a taxi or renting a car. And It'll give me another chance to visit with you two. No telling when you'll be able to make another trip home."

"Sounds good to me, David." Jim squeezed Bones's hips.

Then Jim heard what he'd been working for.  _The_  giggle. Bones had the most wonderful, but rare, giggle Jim had ever heard from a man. It was bubbly and light, and so opposite of Bones's usual pessimistic and scowling demeanor that Jim would have sworn it belonged to someone else.

"What do you say, Bones? Want to eat brunch with your dad?"

Jim barely heard the whispered string of expletives through the giggles Bones was trying to hold back. Bones cleared his throat and raised his voice.

"Sounds good to me, Pa!"

Then Bones hummed and pulled up a cushion from the couch to bury his face, and the rolling giggles, in it.

"Great!" David said happily. "I'm at the house and have to finish up some things, so it'll be a couple of hours. Meet you there at eleven? Your shuttle's not leaving until three, right? We can eat at that little sidewalk cafe just down the street to save time."

" _Love_  that place," Jim said, trying not to laugh himself as the part of Bones's back not covered by the shirt started to turn a splotchy pink from embarrassment and his body shook. "What do  _you_  think, Bones?"

" _Fine!_ That's _fine!"_  Bones said sharply after pulling the cushion away from his face for a fraction of a second.

Jim could feel that Bones was going to lose it entirely if Jim didn't finish with David soon.

"Uh huh," David said. "Good. I'll see you in a couple of hours. And Jim?"

"Yes, David?"

" _Whatever_  you're doing to my son, you need more practice. If he can still talk, you're not doing it  _right_."

"Pa!"

The call suddenly ended on the elder Bones's chuckle. Bones lost it and the giggles turned into a full laugh.

Jim laughed himself as he carefully pulled out. It was a few minutes before he could speak, so he used them to clean himself up.

"Smart man," Jim admitted with a smile. "He's probably right. More practice. Next time, your shirt comes off."

"I'm going to  _kill you_ ," Bones said breathlessly as his laughter started to die down. He bodily rolled over the top of the couch and landed with a soft thump on the cushions. " _After_  I make you clean up the mess and finish packing. But  _before_  I take a shower, so I can wash away the evidence. God, I can't  _believe_  you sometimes."

"Think of it this way, Bones," Jim said happily, leaning on the top of the couch, looking down into Bones's laugh-reddened face and happy eyes. "David would be  _concerned_ if he didn't think we weren't getting each other off  _all_  the time. Now, he doesn't have to worry. And he can  _tell you_  that when we meet for lunch."

Bones covered his face and moaned, but it turned into one last, lingering giggle.

"I  _hate_  you."

" _Love_ you too, Bones," Jim laughed as he walked around the couch and leaned down to give Bones a kiss. "A doctor who giggles. Who knew?"

"That was  _not_  a giggle!" Bones protested. "Grown men do _not_  giggle."

"Was too!"

"Was not!"

Jim smiled as he straightened and padded back to the bedroom with unsteady legs. "There's still a few places we haven't hit yet. Think we have time to find a way to mess around in the sink?"

"Pervert!" Bones proclaimed from the couch. Then another giggle. "Maybe."

_Now, that would be an interesting ending to the best vacation yet. Unless one of us gets stuck in the sink._

Jim snickered.

 

 

 

To Jim's regret, they never got to the sink. But that gave him a new goal for their next vacation home. He'd have time to come up with something inventive.

David arrived on time and lunch went well. David never brought up the subject of what his comm might have interrupted, but Jim could tell he was amused that his son was afraid he would.

Just as they were getting ready to head back to the apartment, do one last check and grab their bags, Jim's comm went off.

"Admiral Roberts," Jim announced with concern as he stood.

The Admiral had been notified of Bones and Peter's rescue as soon as it'd happened. She'd expressed her relief that things had turned out well and wished him and Bones a happy vacation. A call now was unusual. He saw Bones and David exchange glances as he walked away from the table to have a bit more privacy.

"Admiral? This is Kirk."

"Captain, I'm afraid we have an assignment that needs to be attended to at once," her calm voice came over the comm. "The _Enterprise_ is now leaving Space Station 10 and on its way to Deneva to pick you up directly. They have Proctor Security's permission to use their transporters in this instance." There was a touch of amusement in her voice. "I thought I should warn you before you and your husband were beamed up by surprise. I know how important the last few hours of a vacation are."

"Trouble? An emergency on the _Enterprise_?" Jim asked, concerned in spite of her casualness.

"A scientific mystery, so I understand," Roberts replied. "One that leads beyond our borders, into unclaimed territory. Acting Captain Spock has been sent a full packet."

"We'll be ready as soon as the _Enterprise_ gets here," Jim promised.

"Keep us updated, Captain. Admiral Roberts out."

Jim tucked his comm back into his pocket and hurried back to their table. Bones and David's eyes questioning.

"We're called back early. The _Enterprise_ is on its way to beam us up."

"Trouble?" Bones asked, keeping his voice low as he stood.

"Scientific," Jim said with a shrug. "We'll know once Spock beams us up.

"Better say goodbye now," David said with a sigh as he stood as well. "Not very far from the space station for a Starship."

Both Jim and Bones gave David a hug and said good-bye again, then jogged back to their apartment.

When the _Enterprise_ commed them, Spock stating that they were ready for transport, Jim and Bones had gathered their suitcases around them and had made sure the apartment was ready for a long absence. They'd even had a few minutes to pull their uniforms out of their luggage and put them on.

When the transporter took them, Jim took one last look around.

 _I'll be glad to be back on the_ ** _Enterprise_** _, but this is home as well now. We'll be back,_ he promised himself.  _And make a lot more memories._

 

 

***

 

 

Leonard McCoy dropped by their cabin on his way from the transporter room to MedBay, carrying his and Jim's luggage. He tossed the bags on their couch, took a second to check on his bonsai and headed to MedBay. He knew Jim would get caught up by Spock about their new assignment and would let him know what was going on as soon as he could. Until then, he wanted to make sure everything had been running smoothly while he was gone.

M'Benga, knowing him well, met him in his office and they both went over the reports for the last two weeks. McCoy was glad to see that everything had gone smoothly and M'Benga's usual meticulous reports showed him that the MedBay was up to his usual standards. They then went over some of the MedBay crew reports, as there were some assigned to Medical that needed more training, some a promotion, one a serious talk about changing divisions.

It was then that Jim's comm ordering the CMO to the Ready Room came through.

 _Not even back three hours and we're back into it,_ McCoy thought as he made his way to the Ready Room, PADD in hand with anything the Captain would need or want to know about the readiness of the MedBay.

_Seems to take days to really feel like I'm on a vacation and minutes to pull me back into work._

_No wonder it seems like we can never quite leave it._

When he walked into the Ready Room, he saw Spock, Scotty, Chekov, Uhura and Sulu attending. Jim nodded at him to take a seat as soon as he came in.

"Twice now, Space Station 23 has recorded some spatial anomalies,” Jim said as soon as everyone was seated. “Waves of altered time flow. The station is not far from the edge of the explored area of the Gamma quadrant. So, we have some survey reports from that area, but there are big information gaps on our charts. Starfleet and the Federation want to keep most of the other Starships near the neutral zones and we’re the nearest one to the anomaly. So, we get the assignment. Sulu will get us going as soon as Scotty says we’re ready to put in some speed.”

Scotty raised his hand and Jim gave him the nod.

“The ship can do warp seven for a goodly time,” Scotty said with a frown “But that is nae forever. How long will we need to push it?”

Jim nodded at Sulu.

“If we can get warp seven, it’ll be about six days,” Sulu said. “At warp six? About fourteen days.”

“How long can we get warp seven, Scotty?” Jim asked.

Scotty frowned. “I wouldn’t go more than 31 hours at a time,” he admitted. “We’ll be a long way from help if the system should become unstable. Starfleet has their best engineers workin’ on the problem, but there are stability and stress issues that can still crop up.”

McCoy raised his hand. Jim nodded at him.

“Is there a reason we’re in such a hurry?” McCoy asked.

“Spock, you can fill everyone in.”

“This anomaly is one that has never been seen before,” Spock said. “Its existence has only been theorized and has been untestable with our technology. The fact that we are getting such readings is of great concern, as we do not know what is causing the phenomenon. And we are not the only ones interested in it. There are reports of other ships on the way.”

“Whose ships?” McCoy asked.

“There are many civilian interests in that area,” Spock said. “Those from various Federation members and some not. We will not be the only research group following up on this.”

“Which could be a problem,” Jim admitted. “In these fringe areas, the Federation has no legal authority. We can be there, as a research vessel, same as the others, but we can’t issue orders or enforce Federation laws on non-Federation members. If trouble breaks out, there’s only so much we can do. So…”

Jim turned to look at Uhura, “any ship’s communications we can catch coming and going would be helpful. The sooner we know what species are following the same signals we are, the better off we’ll be.”

“Understood, Sir,” Uhura replied.

“Does Starfleet think it is another time-travel event?” Chekov asked with concern. "Like the Narada?'

“That's one of the worries,” Jim said with a frown. “It’s not reading as radiating in a natural pattern but seems to be coming from a central area and sending ‘tendrils’ of warped space-time out in one direction. If this is a natural phenomenon, we need to discover what is causing it and get as much information on it as we can. If this is a created phenomenon, we need to find out what, or who, has this kind of power.”

"And if it artificial,” Sulu asked, “Do we have any authority to do anything?”

“We just have to see what's going on, first. Then go over our options,” Jim said grimly. “Scotty, let's take it up to warp seven for all those 31 hours, then back down to six. Shake everything down and give it your blessing before we do another 31 hours. I have a feeling we need to get to this anomaly before anyone else does. For the rest, I want everyone to keep an eye not only on measuring and cataloging any effects we may find as we get closer to the anomaly, but brainstorm what we may be able to do to stop it if we find it’s a danger to the ship or crew.”

Jim sat back. “Sulu, keep us on warp six until you hear directly from Scotty we can bump it up. Chekov, work with Spock. I want everything we can discover about this recorded and in triplicate before we get there. Uhura, keep your stations open on full. Grab any chatter you can and see if you can tell us who we may be racing to the source. Write up anything you think Spock and I are missing and report ASAP. You three can go.”

Once the others left, Jim pulled up his datascreen. “Scotty, how would running into a temporal wave affect the engines.”

“We get close, we’ll have to take ‘er slow, Captain,” Scotty said worriedly. “Basically, our matter, anti-matter mixture is a delicate balance. Timin’ is critical. It’s going to cause a hell of a rough ride. And it’ll get worse as we go in. I’d feel a lot safer at impulse, as it’s more forgivin’ of bumps in the road.”

“We’ll keep that in mind, Scotty,” Jim said with a frown. “But we do want to get to the source first if we can.”

“Jim? Is there anything in Starfleet’s records about spatial anomalies that I don’t have access to?” McCoy asked with a frown. “Because if this really is a new thing for us, I have no idea how this could affect living beings. Every species on this ship has one basic biological fact in common. And that’s the fact that we use biological, electrical impulses to regulate our various hearts, our breathing, our brains…”

McCoy sighed. “Mess up time and it could mean the difference between a regular heartbeat and fibrillation.”

Jim frowned, then nodded as he typed in something on his desk computer.

“I’ll have Uhura put a priority on a subspace request for information from Starfleet Medical. Put our highest priority code on it. In the meantime, see what you can set up to keep track of any changes in the crew.”

“Something to catch a problem before we get sidelined with it,” McCoy agreed. “We’ll do some brainstorming on that.”

“You need anything, send word up as soon as you can,” Jim said. “I don’t know how fast things will happen.”

McCoy nodded.

“Okay, we have a few days before things get exciting. Let’s get prepared.”

McCoy stood with the rest and headed back to MedBay.

 _All we need to do is to figure out what in a strange situation, that only existed before in theory, could possibly kill, hurt, or maim us. And then prepare to avoid it or treat it,_ McCoy thought with a shake of his head and a sigh.

_Yup, we’re back to work. Vacation over._

***

 

  
Winona placed the seventh disk in their home-made mount and walked back into the control room. They had tested two more of the Library Disks, deciding to only test one at a time now that they knew what frequencies and power settings to use.

The first test of a single disk showed that it was too damaged to respond. They set it aside, to be broken open and studied when, or if, they could figure out a safe way to do so. The next disk had been of a more modern setting than the first four. It looked to be a cityscape, only a few years before the nova of the local sun. The city had seemed almost deserted, with only a few people out on the visible streets. Few vehicles could be seen moving.

They could only conjecture that the evacuation of the Sarpeidon's into their past had taken many years and this was close to the end. Winona had set that disk aside, ready to test the eleven others they had. If they were lucky, the rest would still be working as well.

"Ready test procedures," she announced to her crew, working her own board. She heard the door to the test area open behind her. She turned to look and saw Javelar come into the room.

"Doctor? A moment, please."

Winona followed him to the side of the room. Wyatt looked at her questioningly, so she nodded her permission to continue the pre-test procedures. If Javelar wanted the test to stop, he would already have ordered it so.

"Sir?"

"We have some new information," Javelar said. "We need to change our current location."

"We're moving?" Winona frowned. "Have we been discovered? Is there some sort of danger? The time distortion waves are much less powerful when we test only one of the disks at a time. Surely, the first test would have been the most dangerous one."

"That is so," Javelar said. "But the First Officer of the  _Coma Nestru_  has discovered something that was not apparent before. While the distortion waves flow outward from the disks and the Atavachron in a complete circle, the  _Coma Nestru_  has recorded a spike in one particular direction. In all three tests."

"A spike?" Winona asked with surprise. "How big a spike and how far?"

Javelar angled his head toward her monitor. Winona turned back toward it and pull up a new info packet from the  _Coma Nestru's_  Science Officer. As usual, it was highly secured, and she had to take a moment to get through its security settings.

She quickly scanned the report and studied the graphs. "It's narrow, but headed to the same coordinates in all three experiments?"

"Yes," Javelar answered.

"It's trying to  _connect_ ," Winona said, excitedly. "There is a Portal out there, somewhere, and it's trying to make a connection with that missing piece."

_I knew it! I knew that we were missing something. If someone took the disks and the Atavachron from Sarpeidon when it was looted, then they must have taken the Portal as well. And they've all been sold off separately._

_They're calling to each other._

"The spike dissipates at a certain point," Javelar said. "We are moving the ship to that point and when you test the next disk, the  _Coma Nestru_ will stay outside of the time displacement's wave and record the heading of the next spike, if there should be one."

"And we can follow the trail to the next piece of this puzzle."

"Should there be one," Javelar cautioned. "Let's not get too far ahead of ourselves, Doctor."

Winona tried to control her excitement. She schooled her features and gave Javelar a grave nod. "We will be ready, Sir."

Javelar nodded as he turned to leave. "I know you will, Doctor. Please stand by."

After Javelar left, Winona turned back to her crew. "Stand by. We're waiting on word to proceed."

They all nodded, and Winona could see the questions in Wyatt's eyes.

 _Wait until I tell her,_ Winona thought, anxious to share the news.  _This could be the breakthrough we've been looking for all these years. The breakthrough I've been fighting, digging and sacrificing for. A working time-travel device!_

Practically vibrating with hope, she turned back to her station to check and recheck all the settings. When the word came, she'd be ready.

 

 

***

 

Jim sat back in his chair in his Ready Room, eyes on Spock.

"The Time Distortion has happened four times now," Spock said to the group, reading from his PADD as he sat in the Ready Room. "The last three times have not been as strong as the first. Starbase 23 has reported that the location of the original bursts has moved, but there seems to be a spike coming from the bursts, aimed in a specific direction. And that direction has been consistent."

"Aimed?" Scotty asked with confusion. "Most bursts of any sort of force have a natural radius. Something blows up, nature tends to make that radius round if there's nothing to stop it, like the blast area of a bomb. Its destruction would be in a circle if it weren't sitting' on the ground, or braced against a wall that could hold that side of it in. What would interfere with a time distortion burst that would force out a spike?"

"Unknown," Spock said. "There could be outside forces containing the burst, which has gone missing in that one area. We are just coming in range to record those bursts ourselves. Provided there are more occurrences."

Uhura studied the report on her PADD. "I wonder..."

"We're all ears, here," Jim said encouragingly.

"Instead of being energy forced out, like a solar flare," Uhura began, "could this be a deliberate pulse of energy? Like a signal of some kind?"

Everyone looked at Spock.

"Entirely possible," Spock replied. "Since we do not know what is causing the distortions, we cannot know at this point if the spike is an artifact of the process, or the goal of it."

"You said that the original bursts have moved," Sulu said. "Has it moved along the direction of the spike?"

"Affirmative," Spock replied.

"That's the course changed we've been giving you," Jim said. "We're chasing whatever the source of the bursts is."

"Then, if this object is moving in the same direction as the spike," Uhura said, "then maybe it's communicating with something. Maybe we should concentrate on that path and see if there's someone trying to reply."

"That's even further out of the boundaries of the Federation," Sulu said. "But we do have some maps from the Orion Syndicate that cover a bit of this area, although it is not in their claimed boundaries. We don't really have any idea what's out there."

Jim chewed at his lip, thinking.

"I think Uhura's right," Jim said. "We should not only follow the trajectory of the source of the bursts but have her keep an ear out for a response. See if there's some answer to the bursts. Both from the Science and Communications departments. Cover all our bases."

"Jim?" Bones broke in, "What kind of area is that? Who's claiming it?"

"No one so far," Jim replied. "It's considered an open area, with about four known systems that cooperate, but don't consider themselves a unified force."

"It is also considered a harbor for thieves, looters, pirates, hackers and various other unsavory professions that seek to operate outside any of the Federation, Orion and even Klingon influences," Spock added. "They do not encourage dealings with any sort of government, including the Federation, but do not seek to keep us out."

"The Federation has concentrated on other areas of space exploration," Jim said. "So, we don't really know what's on the other side of this."

"So, we're going into an area where we have  _no_  authority," Bones said with a frown. " _No_  real maps,  _no_  allies and  _no_  backup. And we're chasing something that's unknown, throwing outbursts of time displacement, which is warping space around it and making it hard to navigate through the turbulence. Yup. Nothing can go wrong with  _this_  assignment."

"Par for the course," Jim said with a sympathetic smile. "It's why we get paid the big bucks. Do you have any specific medical concerns?"

"Not so far," Bones admitted. "What information we've been able to gather so far, and with Scotty's help on the scientific, hypothetical aspects of these time displacement waves, it doesn't look like we're in any danger of having our human electrical circuits burn out or stutter."

"Always good to hear," Jim said. "One thing we can put at the back of our list of concerns, then. But keep a close eye on it, Bones. I don't want us rushing into something that'll drop us all."

" _Agreed_ ," Bones said with feeling.

"Anything else?" Jim asked. He watched as the rest shook their heads. "Fine. Any new issues, report them to me as soon as possible. I want answers to bad situations before we have to face them. Everyone back to business, except for Uhura." Jim looked at her. "Follow up on that message idea and see if someone answers that time spike. We've all learned the hard way not to discount any form of communication."

"Aye, Sir," Uhura said with a nod.

"Fine. Let's rock and roll, people."

Everyone gathered their PADDS and data chips and stood, some checking in with each other over items covered by more than one department. By their tone, body language and the bits of dialog he caught, everyone seemed to be confident but alert. Always a good sign.

 

 

It took almost a day before they centered on the source of the time displacement. There were two ships in the center of the wave, which they were able to identify as the  _Sitta Caesia_  and  _Coma Nestru_ , both officially registered with the Federation as belonging to the Tri-Fold Corporation, and both listed as long-term scientific research vessels.

That had surprised and worried Jim. His mother could very well be involved in whatever was going on on that ship. He never actually knew where she worked at any given time, his communication with her always routed through a central hub for Tri-Fold employees.

Neither one of the ships responded to Uhura's hails. Which was rude, and suspicious, but broke no law in this ungoverned area. 

Two days later, because they were looking for it, the _Enterprise_ detected the smaller, weaker answer to another wave of time distortion. This time pinpointed directly to the  _Sitta Caesia_. The closer they got to the source of the time distortion, the rougher the ride for the _Enterprise_. The ship had taken a rough shaking this last time. Jim wasn't the only one worried about stress problems.

MedBay had had several crewmen report in with bruises, strains and some broken bones from falls or being under falling equipment. It was hard to be prepared for shock waves you had no way to predict.

Scotty, Spock and Chekov had been in a huddle for hours, trying to figure out why the  _Sitta Caesia_  hadn't shaken itself apart. The  _Coma Nestru_ , the sister ship, was taking an even worse beating. The three had informed Jim that their hypothesis was that being at the center of the disturbance sheltered the  _Sitta Caesia_  from the worst of the wave, which actually formed outside the ship.

It would explain why the ship wasn't already a pile of rubble.

And while the  _Sitta Caesia_  was moving, the response was coming from a fairly stationary location. If you could call a planet in orbit around a sun stationary.

It seemed both the  _Sitta Caesia_  and the _Enterprise_ now had the same destination.

Jim was in the Captain's chair, checking over some reports with Bones, when Uhura called to him.

"Captain? There's a message from Starfleet. Admiral Oberts."

"Route it to the Ready Room, Lieutenant." Jim glanced at Bones with a grimace. "Starfleet Security. I'm not surprised. Come with me. Spock?"

“Captain?”

"Ready Room. I want you to hear this." He turned to walk to the room, throwing orders over his shoulder.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Jim headed for his chair and computer. "We'll see what Oberts has to say about this."

"Shouldn't it be Admiral Roberts who issues you orders?" Bones asked.

"Yes. That's why I want extra eyes on this message," Jim typed in his code to open the secure packet. "And Spock, if we decide to go down on that planet, I'll need a list of what experts we have on hand to send. Once we get a look at what's causing both sides of these distortion waves, we'll want to have our best people close enough to it to give us an idea of what the crew of the  _Sitta Caesia_  has been chasing all this time."

"Understood, Captain."

Jim opened the packet and sent a copy to Spock and Bones. All three took a few minutes to read the new orders.

"So," Jim began, frowning, "it seems we are to support the  _Sitta Caesia_  and the  _Coma Nestru._  Be their backup and protection against attack or theft. And to make sure that they are not interrupted in their 'retrieval efforts'."

"The message does not give us any information on what the two crews are looking to retrieve," Spock said. "I would presume that the Admiralty must know and have decided not to pass along that information to us."

"What? They expect us to play bodyguard and not tell us what our protected client is after?" Bones grumbled, leaning his elbows on the table as he glared at the PADD in front of him. "And if they know what is causing all this turbulence, then why can't we know? Not knowing could put us all in danger. We can't guard against medical issues we can't see coming."

"I know." Jim said tightly, mulling it over.

_The order is not only signed by Oberts, but by Admiral Roberts as well. If she had any objections to this assignment, they've been overruled. They seem to want the captains of the other ships to call the shots and we just come at their beck and call._

_If they'd wanted us to keep our eyes and ears open, but not interfere, that'd be one thing. But Oberts is practically telling us to be the hired help._

_There's got to be more to it than that. He's head of Starfleet Security. Whatever it is we're all chasing, it's important. Why keep us deaf, dumb, and blind?_

"Jim?"

Jim looked up at Bones.

"Are we being set up for something?" Bones asked. "I mean, sure, we're the Federation's flagship, but we're out of our territory here. And they're not being exactly forthcoming with information. Who the hell are these people that we've now become their bodyguards? This just doesn't feel right to me."

"I have a bad feeling about that as well," Jim admitted. "From what I can tell, we'll have no backup of our own out here. And we both know that Admiral Oberts isn't a fan of ours."

"Doctor McCoy?" Uhura's voice came over the comm.

"McCoy here."

"There's a message packet for you, from Admiral Boyce, the Surgeon General."

"Send it to my PADD," Bones said. He glanced at Jim, then Spock, a frown on his face. He signed into the message packet seconds after his PADD beeped the arrival of the packet.

 _This is serious, to have Boyce message Bones directly. Are those John Grimm's chickens coming home to roost?_  Jim wondered.  _If it is, this is a rotten time to have to do anything about it._

Jim watched as Bones's eyebrow rose and his frown grew to a scowl. Glancing at Spock, who was waiting patiently, Bones handed the PADD over to Jim.

The message from the Surgeon General was short and to the point.

**_Doctor Winona Kirk is aboard the Sitta Caesia_ ** **. _Her project. Suspect Section 31 interest and in support._**

Jim felt a shock at seeing his mother's name.

_She **is**  here. And into something important and game-changing if Section 31 is interested._

The last he had talked to his mother had been on the morning of his birthday. Nothing she had told him would have given him a clue that she was into something this huge. Or even this far out from Federation Space.

It felt strange to know that she was on a ship running hell-bent on outracing them to something this dangerous.

"Spock," Jim said grimmly, "as it happens, you should know that this last bit of information we've received is that my mother is aboard the  _Sitta Caesia_ , and that this is her project."

Spock's eyebrow rose. "Indeed. I have to admit that I have not come across any of Doctor Kirk's research in the area of quantum theory. Although I did enjoy meeting her at your wedding. I do believe that she is considered quite brilliant in her field."

"Yes. So they say." Jim smiled, hoping Spock wouldn't notice how thin it was. "She's never been interested in publishing any of her work. So, there wouldn't be much to run across. I barely know where she's been at any particular time in the past. And never what she's working on. She and Tri-Fold are very closed mouthed that way."

"I see," Spock said. "I look forward to meeting her again."

 _Wish I could say the same,_ Jim thought.

He remembered how distant and uncomfortable his mother had sounded over the birthday call he'd shared with Sam. The two had made the  call themselves, which was more to ease their own consciousness rather than any real effort to pull his mother into any type of paternal conversation. He didn't even know if she'd even planned to call him on his birthday at all.

Still, he'd been disappointed and angry at the sad look on Sam's face afterwards.

"Let's make sure we don't lose track of either of the Tri-Fold ships," Jim said gravely. "And be ready to render aid if those waves of turbulence do them any damage. Spock, I'll join you on the bridge, later. Bones and I have some things we need to discuss."

"Understood," Spock said with a nod as he stood, taking his PADD with him as he left.

As soon as he left, Bones sighed and sat back. "This sounds like it's going to get complicated real quick. We're supposed to guard two ships, while some type of space-time displacement is going on, and no one is informing us of the details. And those who really shouldn't know about this before we do, do."

"Makes me wonder how my mother is involved in all this," Jim said honestly. He rubbed his face tiredly. "Was the _Enterprise_ really the only ship out on this end that could have responded? Or did they want me out here for some reason? And what the hell is going on, on that ship? What are they chasing and what do they expect to find?"

"All good questions," Bones huffed as he toyed with the PADD in front of him. "Too damn bad that no one thinks we're important enough to give us the answers."

Bones looked at Jim. "How're you going to do with your mother involved in all this?"

"If she's all business, focused, restrained, quiet and aloof, then that's what I'm used to." Jim sighed and sat back, arms across his chest. He chewed on his lip for a moment.

"But, I honestly don't know," Jim admitted. "I've barely seen her as an adult. I've  _never_  seen her at work. I have this image in my mind that she's the same at work as she was at home, in her vids, and through subspace. But maybe she's not. She could be a totally different person when she's working. Maybe she smiles all the time, is happy and bubbly. Maybe she's even dating." Jim shrugged. "I don't know how I'd feel if I find out she's a totally happier person without me and Sam around."

"Yup, I can see where that would be a good blow to the old ego," Bones said with a shake of his head. "And Sam, as an adult, was different then you thought he'd be. I can see why you're not sure you know your mother at all. But Jim?"

Jim looked over at Bones's concerned face. "Yeah?"

"It won't be about  _you_ , you know that, right?" Bones asked softly. "She doesn't really  _know_  you or Sam. She knows  _about_ you both, the facts, but not the people you are. None of her reactions are based on who you two really are, who you turned out to be. That's nothing you could have controlled as a child, nor as an adult. Whatever her reactions are to you, that's all on  _her_."

Jim gave Bones as small smile. "You're afraid I'll get my feelings hurt and you want to protect me from that."

"Damn straight," Bones said seriously. "I can be invisible to her, for all I care. But I don't want you to be hurt over this, whatever you find out. I just wish I could do something to help you through this."

"You already are," Jim said with a sigh as he stood and walked over to Bones. He leaned down to give Bones a quick kiss and a real smile. "You're  _here_. You're listening. And you'll be there afterward, no matter what. Exactly what I need."

Jim continued to the door that led to the bridge. "Time to get back to work. Any minute all hell could break loose."

"Business as usual then," Bones said from behind him as he stood.

The door slid shut.

_For us, yes. Business as usual._

***

 

Winona watched as the First Officer of the  _Sitta Caesia_  frowned at her and Javelar over the viewscreen.

"We have yet to pinpoint the exact location of the response spike," First Officer Kwinto said gravely. "While we have traced it to a planet in the Xendow system, we are too far away to get the exact coordinates of the source on the planet itself. Our records of this system are incomplete and spotty. We will be vulnerable while in orbit, and while on the planet, to outside forces."

"Do not worry about that," Javelar said evenly. "We will have protection."

"In the form of?" Kwinto asked in surprise.

"The Federation has agreed to have their Flag Ship act as our protection."

"The  _Enterprise_?" Winona asked in surprise. "No one told me it was in the area."

"You have been too busy to bother with such trivia, Doctor," Javelar said, looking up at Winona with speculation. "Will that be a problem? I realize that your son being the Captain may interfere--"

"No," Winona said quickly. "I have no problem with my son in command, or the presence of the  _Enterprise_. Why would I?"

"A good question," Javelar said looking back to his PADD with disinterest. "Back to business... You have tested seven of the disks so far. That means there are two more left to test. Are we assuming that the already tested disks are still viable and that their activations are not a one-time phenomenon?"

"There shouldn't be any reason the disks we have tested should not respond the same way as they did the first time. With the exception of the one non-working disk, the others should still function."

"But we do not know this for a fact." Javelar looked at her sharply.

"No, Sir. We do not," Winona admitted.

"Officer Kwinto, what is the estimated time of arrival at the planet in question?"

"Fifty hours, at this speed," Kwinto responded. "Although each time we test, the turbulence in space-time around us increases. This seems to correspond to our distance from the planet and response in question."

Winona had to agree. The turbulence the  _Sitta Caesia_  had encountered during the pulse from the Atavachron and the disks had jolted the ship badly. Even though it lasted only a few seconds, there had been some damage to the ship. The warm wave of space-time that she and the crew had felt during those few seconds had also grown in strength. Even though those in Medical had said that there seemed to be no effect from the pulse on living organisms, Winona could only wonder how it was affecting them in ways they had yet to realize.

The  _Coma Nestru_  had been hit even worse. It was going to have to back off if the turbulence became worse.

Javelar nodded. "Since we seem to have at least six working disks, I suggest we hold off on testing the last two until we get closer to the Xendow system and can then pinpoint the response with more precision."

"Agree," First Officer Kwinto added quickly.

"Agreed," Winona said reluctantly. Not that she didn't want to make sure they didn't damage the ship, but she was anxious to know what scenes of Sarpeidon were on those last two disks.

"Good." Javelar said. "Doctor Kirk, let us wait twelve hours until the next test. That should put us close enough to be sure that the responding signal is actually coming from the planet we believe it is coming from. Then, the last test from orbit and hope that we are first on the scene."

Shocked, Winona sit even straighter. "First? There is some question about that?"

Javelar frowned as he looked at her.

"Doctor, it is not as if we are the only ship in the area. The time distortion waves are the strongest here on the ship, but they are certainly detectable by other ships around us."

"You mean, others are on their way to the destination site, as we are?" Winona asked, a chill going through her.

"The distortion waves are why the  _Enterprise_  was called to this area by Starfleet." Javelar nodded gravely. "There are ships from several local systems headed in this direction. Some have sent ships to the areas we were in when the other tests were run. They either do not have the equipment to follow up on such an anomaly, or have missed recording the spike itself, as well as the answering response. But there are a number of ships who have this same information and they are not very far behind us."

 _We're not alone. Why didn't I think about others coming to check all this out?_ Winona thought, angry at herself.  _I've been so focused on the test results that I didn't think how wide range the distortion was. Of course, there would be others who would be fascinated and follow it up._

"That is all, First Officer Kwinto," Javelar said suddenly.

Kwinto nodded and signed off.

"In spite of your assurances that this will not be a problem, you have concerns about the  _Enterprise_ , Doctor?"

Winona schooled her face into neutrality before looking at Javelar. "I have concerns about the Federation. They won't be pushed around or warned off, even though this isn't Federation territory."

"You think that they will interfere with us?"

Winona frowned.

"If they see that the planet has pre-warp technology, then it is likely. They won't allow first contact, even though this isn't their jurisdiction or in Federation space. They are not big on letting advanced species or civilizations run roughshod over those who are younger."

"Our scans from this distance say that the planet in question is most probably barren, as there are no signs of intelligence, or any life at all."

"Then they will honor the old spacers code of salvage law, which can be complicated," Winona assured him. "For floating wreckage, if there's even one life form aboard, then they can only render assistance. If the ship is abandoned, or the crew dead, then they can bring it back to the Federation for study. But you don't need me to tell you all this. I'm sure Tri-Fold has more than its share of legal representation to advise you, no matter what space we're in."

"True," Javelar said. "But I thought you might know more about how the Captain of the _Enterprise_  will react in this situation."

"According to Starfleet rules and regulations, I would imagine," Winona said tightly.

"Oh, come now, Doctor Kirk." Javelar looked at her scolding. "You must have  _some_  insight on how your own son will react to such a situation. Especially one that has his mother as lead scientist on the project he's been ordered to protect."

 _Does he really think I would know?_ Winona wondered.  _He knows how little contact I've had with my children over the years. After all, it's been on their recommendation that I have any relationship with them at all. They know when I call. They know when I visit. So, why ask me such a question now?_

"They have orders to protect us?" she asked. "Then I strongly suspect my son will behave as his position of the Captain of the  _Enterprise_  requires him to."

When Winona looked up, Javelar wore a small smile.

"It would help to know who we may be dealing with, when they arrive," Javelar said. "The Federation may be a problem if your son chooses to interfere. But they may be a boon if they can protect us from those other ships who will arrive after we do. We are not unarmed. And we do carry some... defenses... that are not entirely legal when we occupy Federation space. If the late arrivals think about taking our rightful property, then it would be helpful to know if you trust your son to back us up."

"You  _know_ his past," Winona said sharply, a pain behind her eyes starting to make itself known. "He will jump in when he feels he needs to. I don't think he will interfere with our study, or our recovery of any equipment we can find. But he will also not let us walk away with something we have taken away from someone else. He will not leave the area if there's anything he thinks they can discover, any information they can take back to Starfleet and the Federation. He will have a team on the planet, watching ours."

Winona looked down at her PADD, images of George flashing through her mind, clear and sharp through the pain of the headache.

"He has his faults, but he's determined to be his father's son."

"And those faults would be?"

"You expect me to know him better than I do," Winona snapped. "I've never  _seen_  him in command."

"Humor me, Doctor Kirk."

The pain twanged hard again and she couldn't keep from closing her eyes and rubbing her temple, no matter how much she hated to show her weakness.

_It doesn't matter what I say. What they know. Soon, so soon, it could be all over. Everything reset and corrected. George will be alive and our children finally able to fulfill their rightful destinies. Nothing in this universe matters._

_No one matters._

"He's too friendly with his crew," Winona said with a sigh as the pain started to recede. She kept her eyes closed. "Too familiar. Has too many friends in the ranks. This marriage of his, to a divorced doctor who actually has the CMO position on his ship? A dangerous and unnecessary choice of relationship for his rank. A possible detriment to his future in Starfleet. He and his Doctor will eventually clash, of course. And if those in the Admiralty don't find a way to hold him back for other reasons, they can use that against him. I don't get any more information about his assignments than you do. We're both very careful about giving out too much information."

She opened her eyes as she heard Javelar stand. He nodded at her.

"That is enough for now, Doctor. But I would suggest that you try to cultivate a closer relationship with your son, any time you have the chance. Having a Starship Captain as a close ally would be welcomed. Especially considering his friendship with Ambassador Spock."

"You have more information about him?" Winona asked, a spark of hope washing through her, almost washing away the pain in her head.

_They've had all this time since the wedding to find out more about the Ambassador. They must know more about him. And about what he knows about time travel, if he is who I think he is._

Javelar's face went completely neutral, as only a Hekaran could.

"Ambassador Spock is a very important man," Javelar admitted. "Both on Vulcan and Earth. And because of Vulcan's loss, any records of his past are, understandably, hard to come by. We have not been able to prove his identity to our satisfaction, and he is almost impossible to get close to. Your son may be the only way to get close enough to him to even do the basics, such as acquire a sample of his DNA for comparison to... others. Another reason to have more contact with your son."

Javelar turned and left Winona alone.

_Another project to follow up on. Unless this one is the end of my search._

_Please, let this be the solution to everything._

 

***

 

Jim Kirk hung on to his armrests, restraints on, as the _Enterprise_ bucked and shook violently. This distortion wave, coming days after the last, was much stronger and had come as another surprise. The Red Alert siren had probably come on just seconds too late to really give anyone on the _Enterprise_ a good head's up.

Seconds on something like this could mean the difference between riding it out successfully and injuries or breakdowns. Or worse.

As suddenly as it started, the turbulence stopped.

"Chekov! Damage reports ASAP."

"Aye, Sir."

Jim swiveled his chair around as he released the restraints. "Uhura? Did we get any warning from the Tri-Fold ships?"

"No, Sir. They have not yet made contact with us, nor responded to our hails."

_They're doing something to cause these waves, they should know we've been ordered to protect them, yet they refuse to respond and fail to give us any heads up at all?_

_What the hell are they up to?_

"Sulu? Let me know if those other ships start to look like they're floundering."

"Aye, Sir."

"That wave was twice as strong as the last one," Spock announced from his Science Station. "It was echoed by the time distortion from the planet."

"And the  _Sitta Caesia_  was the source of the pulse?"

Spock looked up. "Confirmed."

"Ready Room," Jim ordered, marching to the Ready Room door. Spock followed.

Jim found himself too keyed up to sit. He paced at the head of the table.

"Do we have _any_  idea what is causing these waves? Any idea what they could be doing on the  _Sitta Caesia_?"

"Not beyond vague hypothesis," Spock said reluctantly. "This is a new phenomenon. According to all the databases I've been able to access, including Starfleet's Science Department, there is little information to work with."

Spock paused for a moment, then asked gently, "You are worried about your mother?"

Jim sighed, sitting on the edge of the conference table.

"Of course I am. Whatever is going on that ship, is dangerous. Even the _Enterprise_ can get shaken to pieces if those waves get much stronger and last longer. And the corresponding response from the planet? It's obvious the  _Sitta Caesia_  is after whatever is on that planet. They've been running full speed every second they can. I'm worried about what they might find there. This far away from any type of surveyed systems, we have no idea what they're running so hard to get to."

Spock studied him for a moment. "You suspect that there may be an intelligent force behind these events? Coercing or controlling the crew of the ship?"

"It's a worry," Jim admitted. "I know that they've been ignoring our hails. Out here, that's not illegal. We have no right to demand they talk to us. And they know we can't order them around, or interfere, or board them without earning the label of pirate."

"They could be concerned about salvage rights," Spock said. "Even though the Federation's salvage rules do not extend outside of the Federations borders."

"And there are those other ships not all that far behind us," Jim said. He sighed. "I think the not knowing part is what's driving me crazy. I may not be able to be dispassionate about this." Jim gave Spock a helpless shrug. "And I just have this feeling..."

"Jim? You have a...  _gut_  feeling?"

"Yes. But I know," Jim gave him an apologetic smile, "it's not logical, in any way."

Spock's eyebrow rose. "I find that many times, the subconscious acquisition and processing of data may not be done in a logical manner, for humans. But that does not mean that the results should be discounted. I find that you have a talent for such data processing."

Jim nodded. "Well, my gut is telling me that this is huge, Spock. In a bad way. I feel that all hell is going to break loose and I should be paying very close attention to things."

"Logical, considering the circumstances," Spock replied. "We have very little information at this point."

"Maybe that's what's bothering me. Does the planet in question still look to be uninhabited?" Jim asked.

"There are no signals on any frequencies and no signs of civilization. Until we get closer, we will not know for sure if there may be some pre-technological civilization that will need our protection."

"And that could really be a mess," Jim said with a sigh. "How long before we get close enough to be sure?"

"Another two point four hours, at this speed. Then another hour until we can achieve orbit."

Jim rubbed at his chin, thinking.

"All we can do now is make sure everyone is on their toes, ready for anything."

"Agreed."

"Check to see if Chekov has a damage report ready and sign off on it, unless there's something you think I need to know," Jim said. "I'm going to make the rounds. Hit MedBay. Engineering. Some of the Science labs. Check in with all of them, one last time."

"Understood, Captain."

"You have the con, Mr. Spock."

Spock nodded and returned to the bridge as Jim hit the outer hallway, feeling like he was going to jump out of his skin if he didn't move.

_Something huge is getting ready to jump on me. Why can't my gut tell me anything actually useful? Like what I'm supposed to do to be prepared and what to watch for?_

***

 

Doctor Kirk stood in her testing chamber one more time. They had one disk left to test. She was feeling anxious, because there was no guarantee that any of the disk would ever work again. If this was their last test, then they had to get this right.

Javelar came into the room.

"We are almost ready. The  _Sitta Caesia_  and the  _Coma Nestru_ are both in position. If this disk produces an answering sign from the planet below, then they would be able to pinpoint the location of the response signal."

"And we're ready to land and make a claim on the item?" Winona asked.

Javelar nodded. "We should have no trouble from the _Enterprise_. The planet is uninhabited, although there are signs of debris and abandoned settlements. We suspect this may have been a pirate outpost at one time."

"You've communicated with the _Enterprise_?" Winona asked.

"Not as of yet. We are under no obligation to do so. We believe that once we find what we're looking for, we can then announce our salvage intentions."

"I still say that's a mistake," Winona said with a frown. "Neither the Federation, or my son, will just drift away from this when they get bored. By not responding, or even being honest, they'll suspect that what we're doing is something we want to keep from them. They'll just dig in deeper to see what it is."

"Maybe so." Javelar inclined his head. "But they will ask questions we will not want to answer. Even our silence at such questions could tell them more than we want them to know. Once we have located the artifact and made a claim, then we can be neighborly."

"They will watch from the ship," Winona reminded him. "And follow us down. You now that."

Javelar studied her. "And will this be a problem for you, if your son should be among those from the _Enterprise_ who decide to visit us and our new acquisition?"

Winona frowned and crossed her arms. "You know it won't."

Javelar's comm went off. He looked down and almost smiled. "We are set, Doctor. Everyone is ready to go. Time for your next test."

Winona turned toward her control panel, excitement wiping away all thoughts of her son.

 

***

 

“Red Alert!” Spock yelled across the bridge the same time the wave hit the _Enterprise_.

Jim, on his way to his chair, was thrown to the floor along with half of the standing bridge crew. Only the seated crew was safe at their stations, ordered by Spock to stay restrained in while seated.

This upheaval was even more violent than the earlier ones, and Jim rolled on the deck as the gravitational generators tried to even out the gravity on the ship out. As the _Enterprise_ continued to buck he crawled to the base of his chair and pulled himself into it as some lights flickered and others flashed their warnings. Just before he could hit the button for the seat restraints, the bucking stopped.

“Damage report, Mr. Chekov. Spock?”

“Processing the information now, Captain,” Spock said shortly, eyes on his monitor and his fingers typing commands quickly. “The source of the wave is as before, the  _Sitta Caesia_. We’ve pinpointed the response. It is definitely coming from this side of Xendow I. We have the exact coordinates.”

“Sulu?”

“The  _Sitta Caesia_  is moving its orbit to come closer to the location of the response signal. The  _Coma Nestru_  is staying out at the edge of the system.”

“I’m getting a hail from the ship, captain,” Uhura said.

“About time,” Jim said under his breath. “Uhura, let them sit for a moment. Sulu? Let’s get a companionable orbit over the area of the response site. Don’t crowd them, but don’t let them push too far out in case we need a quick response.”

“Aye, Sir.”

“Now, Uhura.”

The viewscreen showed a stern female face.

“Captain Kirk, I am Captain Lee from the  _Sitta Caesia_.” The woman said in a business-like tone. “As you know, we are a research vessel owned by Tri-Fold Corporation, a Federation civilian corporation in good standing. Our current project has taken us to this uncharted planet. Outside of the Federation. Free space, if you will. As of now, we are staking a salvage claim against anything found at the coordinates we are sending. I assume you will have no problems with this?”

_'As we know'? Either they know they're easily researched, or they know we've been contacted by Starfleet and ordered to cooperate. I'm guessing the latter. Let's find out._

“Captain Lee,” Jim answered in just as business-like a manner, “thank you for _finally_  answering our hails. The _Enterprise_ itself is an exploratory and scientific research vessel and we certainly understand the excitement of a new find. We have no plans, at this time, to interfere with your salvage or your research on Xendow 1.”

“Thank you, Captain," Lee said guardedly, raising a disapproving eyebrow. "I see you have already chosen a designation for it."

"Beats calling it  _'the planet'_ ," Jim said casually. "We have no preferences, if you have one you prefer."

Captain Lee gave the barest of nods. "We can agree to the name at this time."

“And we're looking forward to sharing any other such information we discover about the planet,” Jim said. “As we are all research ships, orbiting a new planet, there should be a lot of new things we can discover together that does not interfere with your salvage rights." Jim smiled.

Captain Lee looked off-screen for a moment. Then nodded to Jim as she stepped aside. In her place an impeccably dressed Hekaran stepped into view.

“Captain Kirk? I am Amajaro Javelar, head of Tri-Folds Research and Development team in this sector. I think that, this far from the Federation, we certainly can be of help to each other. Share resources and information, as agreed to by Starfleet Command and Tri-Fold's directors. As I'm sure Admiral Oberts will soon inform you, if he has not already, negotiations for your people to help and assists ours has already been worked out between us."

_So, they've worked out the pecking order behind the scenes with Starfleet. Must be why they didn't answer our earlier hails. They didn't want to make any deals with me when they could just get me to follow Starfleet's orders._

_They have friends in high places, who could smooth the way for them. And they did._

"We will be glad to be of service," Jim assured him. "I assume that you will want our backup on the surface as well as orbit. Since this is an unknown world, we are well equipped to keep an eye out for various dangers, as well as having security personnel and medical facilities available if anyone should need them."

Jim thought he saw a little bit of hesitation on Javelar's face. Being Hekaran, it was hard to be sure. But his tone was agreeable.

"We are preparing to send down a survey team and invite a team of your own to join us, as long as it is clear that my people are in charge."

_In charge, to a point. We've been ordered to support and not interfere. But they didn't tell me I had to take orders from him, or either of the other captains._

Spock signaled Jim from off-screen. "Just a moment, Mr. Javelar." Jim signaled Spock to come up and whisper to him.

"Captain, there is a magnetic turbulence, various Ion storms across the surface, as well as severe weather. Transporters will be unusable. This is a shuttle only situation."

Jim nodded.

Jim kept his expression neutral and nodded. “Thank you for generous invitation, Mr. Javelar. We have information that interference from the surface would make transporting impossible. I assume you have shuttles for your use, as we do. We can arrange to meet at a specified location on the surface. Your people can work that out with my Science Officer."

"You have already proven your worth as an ally, Captain," Javelar acknowledged. "As it seems we have just discovered that aspect of the surface ourselves. I will have my people contact you as soon as we find ourselves prepared to make a landing. The  _Sitta Caesia_  out."

The line closed.

"They already knew we couldn't beam down," McCoy said, stepping closer to Jim. "Nice of them not to mention it first."

"They're accepting our help, but only because of the ships coming in behind us," Jim said thoughtfully. "They're not going to make it easy for us on the surface. If they could, they'd keep us up here."

"Then why not have Oberts order us to stay in orbit?"

"It may be," Spock said, "that part of their agreement with Starfleet is that we must be allowed to land with them."

"I can't imagine Starfleet wants to be in the dark on this any more than we do," Jim agreed. "Understanding this kind of anomaly is hugely important. And they may not feel Tri-Fold is trustworthy. They don't want to fight Tri-Fold for information, since we don't have any real jurisdiction here. But they don't want us to be pushed out of whatever we can find on our own. Even if it's looking over Tri-Fold's shoulders."

"But doesn't that mean we can't keep all those other ships out of it either?" McCoy asked, looking at Spock. "How many are there anyway?"

"There are now six ships on the way here," Spock said. "Two Orion, one Efrosian, one Andorian and two unidentified."

"The Orions are going to be trouble?" McCoy asked.

"We can handle the Orions if we need to," Jim said, sitting back in his chair. "It's the unidentified ones we need to keep an eye on."

"The other ships are approaching at much lower warp speed," Spock added. "It will be another 36 point two hours before the Orions will be able to reach orbit. The others are another few hours behind."

"And the  _Sitta Caesia_  will know this as well as we do," Jim said. "Which is another reason to get down there and find whatever it is that's answering their wave. Spock, what kind of conditions are we looking at down there?"

"Class M, volatile atmosphere with strong magnetic, Ionic, and stratospheric storms," Spock said. "There will be calm times, where outdoor surveying could be done. We will have to keep a close watch on conditions as the survey progresses."

"Keptain?"

Jim looked over at Chekov, who was looking excitedly at his monitor. "We have been able to build up a geographical map during the breaks in the magnetic storms. The area where the return pulse originated from show large pieces of metallic debris and what could be the residue of an impulse engine."

"A shipwreck?" McCoy asked.

Jim stood and the three of them moved over to Chekov's station and looked over his shoulder. He could see that the bits and pieces of the combined and layered scans showed a long breakup trail. He'd seen those types of readings before.

"Looks like it," Jim said. "A really large one. They came in at an angle, then bounced and broke up. You can see where the engine hit the planet and followed along the damage trail, then hit something hard and veered off. Some of the pieces are large. They may be the best-protected parts of the ship."

"Any survivors?" McCoy asked anxiously.

"Chekov?"

"I do not see anything that vould suggest that survival pods vere deployed," Chekov said grimly. "But if they were able to evacuate before the ship broke orbit, they could be spread out over the entire planet. I have all sensors open, but the storms only give us a few minutes here and there to gather information."

Spock walked to his own station and pulled the information from Chekov's station to his own. They gave him a few minutes.

"Anything interesting?" Jim asked when Spock pulled back.

"The scanners are picking up readings from the debris. The return pulse originated from inside the debris, some of which is still structurally intact."

"So, the  _Sitta Caesia_  has some type of new technology that affects spacetime across a wide band and this ship was carrying something similar?" Jim asked.

"I believe so, Captain, although we do not know if these are natural or constructed devices."

"Or, if they are constructed, if they're from inside or outside the Federation," McCoy added. "Lots of pirates out in this area. And what about the shipwreck's origination? Could some of those ships behind us be coming up to reclaim their ship and any survivors we find?"

"We shall be working to determine the civilization of origin," Spock assured them. "We will most probably need to be close to the debris to make that determination."

"This  _is_  free space, Bones," Jim said. "No one has any legal requirement to assist in the return of any wreckage, or survivors. They could ask, but we're not the ones to make that determination over non-living recovery items."

"So, those coming up on our ass may decide to fight us to take back anything found down there."

Jim gave McCoy a confirming look.

"Which is why the  _Sitta Caesia_  and  _Coma Nestru_  want us here. Between the three of us, we can protect Tri-Folds salvage teams."

"Great. Now we're the hired thugs."

Jim sighed. "We'll just have to do our best not to be too thuggish. No reason to start a war over this if we can keep the peace and let Tri-Fold keep their prize."

"Captain?" Uhura called from her station. "We have coordinates for meeting on the surface of the planet. They expect planet fall in one hour."

"Confirm," Jim told her, then turned to Spock. "I want you, me and McCoy on the team, as well as Chekov, three security men and Sulu piloting. I want everyone equipped with phasers and in dry-terrain survival gear. We'll need to keep our eyes open and alert for anything we can see or hear while we're down there."

Spock nodded, then turned back to his station to prepare the away team.

Jim went to his chair and hit the comm to call Scotty up to the bridge to take charge.

McCoy left to get his away-team kit. Spock went to get the types of scanners and tricorders they'd need. Chekov called up the security members they'd need for the assignment. Jim gave Scotty his orders and made his way to the small room next to the Shuttle Bay, where the various landing and survival suits were kept.

Dark and form-fitting, the only markings were their ranking and division colors on the shoulders. While two-piece in order to fit most humanoid body types, the suits sealed at the waist and contained an in-suit water filtration system. The suit came with water inside the material itself in microscopic tubes and would filtrate their urine to a small pouch and a retractable tube on their shoulders to access it. The liquid also helped to regulate their body temperatures in extreme cases and would protect their skin from blowing sand and debris. At the back of their neck was a small pouch with a head covering that would come in handy in such a storm. Jim, like everyone else who used the suit, hoped that they wouldn't need to use the urine filtration system, but was damned glad to have it if they needed it.

He was sitting and pulling on the pants when McCoy arrived, got his suit out of the locker, and sat down next to him.

"Jim? You're going to be okay with seeing your mother, if she's on the landing party?" McCoy asked quietly as he began to undress.

"It's  _business_ ," Jim said solemnly as he reached for his shirt. "Tri-Fold is her business, Starfleet is mine. I can't let it affect me more than that."

McCoy frowned but continued dressing in silence.

 _He's worried,_ Jim thought as he continued to dress. _I'd be worried about him if it was the other way around. But he knows David a lot better than I know my Mom. He's close to his father, so butting heads with his Dad would bother him. But I don't know Mom that well. It's not like we've got a relationship to protect. I'm not sure we have anything at all._

Spock, Chekov, Sulu, and the three security guards arrived, and Jim concentrated on everyone getting outfitted correctly. He let McCoy fuss over them, checking everyone's suit to make sure they were all set and ready to go. They then loaded onto the  _Chercheur_  and Jim settled into the co-pilot seat.

"Uhura?" Jim asked into the comm set in the shoulder of his suit.

"Sir?"

"We're getting ready to take off. Any new word from Tri-Fold's people?"

"No, Sir."

"Okay. I want you to monitor our channels and keep a close eye on our comm signals. We're going to be cutting in and out at odd times. Our emergency word is 'zebra'. You hear that, tell Scotty immediately."

"Affirmative, Sir."

"Scotty?"

"Yes, Sir."

"We give the emergency signal, get us a shuttle with security and have them either land to get us out, or try a low-height beam out from just over our heads. Otherwise, have Uhura notify us if those approaching ships gain speed, or someone else shows up. I don't want to be surprised by them."

"Aye, Sir. I'll keep an eye on them."

"Kirk out." Jim nodded to Sulu. "It's your ship. Let's go."

Sulu nodded as he worked his controls. The shuttle lifted off the shuttle pad and they were on their way.

 

***

 

After fighting some really bad turbulence, Sulu set the  _Chercheur_  down on the planet. Like most worlds just outside the 'Goldilocks' zone, the world was barren, dry and sandy from the constant erosion of the solidified crust by the winds. The upper atmosphere was like a constant tornado. But here, on the ground, the mountain ranges and large area of land had calmed them a bit. So, while the wilder winds held back, the crews of the three shuttles could walk the surface and take their readings. Sulu had found a spot by the  _Sitta Caesia's_  shuttle, the  _Marksman_ , not too far from the tail end of the wreckage trail.

Coordinating their landings, Jim volunteered his team to do the original scout of the area outside the ship.

The Captain of the  _Sitta Caesia_ , agreed.

The wind had died down to a breeze, so they didn't need their protective head covering. The air was hot and dry, with the stink of sulfur. The ground was a dead-looking sand tan, with streaks of rainbow shimmer here and there that told of leaking machine oils and other chemicals. With Spock, Bones, Chekov, and the three security guards behind him, they fanned out around the  _Chercheur_ , scanning the area in front of them. The first bits of the wreck would be behind several large boulders. Jim headed that way.

"Spock, you look for indications of the origin of the wreck. We need to find out whose ship this was. Chekov? You and your men look for any type of life signs, in case they're hidden from our sensors by the storm, or they're something we haven't been introduced to yet. Bones? Keep an eye on all of us and be ready to identify and date any bodies we may find."

All three men nodded at their orders. Spock, Jim, and Bones walked up the small incline and around the boulders. Chekov and his men fell behind and fanned out. At the top of the small hill, Jim stood and looked out over the scene.

Mountains ringed them in the distance, not much taller than what was normal for Earth. The incline was just one side of the huge rut the ship had plowed into the ground as it slid to a stop on the planet's surface. The gouge in the landscape had dug up rocks the size of small land vehicles on either side and led for what looked like almost a hundred kilometers in the distance. There were chunks of metal visible in the distance, clearly ship wreckage and one large piece not too far away.

Tricorder in hand, Spock knelt and touched the ground. "Captain? The terrain and the landing side seem to indicate the wreckage to be several Terran years old. The gouge on the landscape has filled in a bit since the original wreck."

"Any spike on the deuterium radiation readings?" Jim asked Bones.

"No," Bones said. "I'm guessing one of these larger pieces of ship still has an intact impulse engine core."

Jim hit his comm. "Chekov. Anything to report?"

"We are getting no recognizable life signs, Captain. Neither from the ship nor any indigenous life."

"So, if they took escape pods, they could be kilometers from here," Bones added. "And they either died here or were picked up long ago."

"Let's hope for the latter," Jim muttered as his comm went off and he opened the channel.

"Captain Kirk," a female voice said briskly. "Is there any reason my team cannot now access the wreck?"

Jim closed his eyes, recognizing his mother's voice. 

_It's business now. Just business. No different than when Bones and I are working._

Jim glanced at Spock, then Bones. Both shook their head in the negative. Turning away, he caught an apprehensive glance between the two. They'd both recognized Winona's voice. He was going to ignore it.

"Negative, Doctor Kirk. We will make our way to your shuttle to escort you."

"Agreed." Winona cut off the comm.

"Let's go help the scientists get set up," Jim said casually turning back to make their way back through the maze of boulders to the shuttles. He commed Chekov to pull his men back in and rendezvous there.

When he came upon the  _Marksman_ , the door was open, and five people were in sight. Four of them were at the cargo door, starting to unload anti-grav movers. All wore suits much like the Federation's design. Next to Winona, a young woman who watched them approach frowned at them.

Winona Kirk, her fair hair pulled into a short tail at the nape of her neck, was intently studying the equipment in her hands. Jim couldn't tell what it was. He was not sure he'd seen a device like that.

"Doctor," Jim said as he approached his mother under her aid's watchful eyes. She had yet to look up at him. "We are ready to accompany you to the wreckage. Is there anything my team should be aware of?"

When Winona looked up at him, it was as if she'd already dismissed him. Her blue eyes were hard and a she looked a bit annoyed behind her poker face.

_She's unhappy I'm here. Or maybe doesn't like having an escort. Or that she sees us as slowing her down. Maybe all three._

"Captain," Winona said tightly, with a slight nod. She glanced at Spock and Bones, but then looked back to Jim. "Captain, we must be swift. There is no guarantee this mild weather will last and there's delicate equipment we need to find."

_Finally admitting that it's more than just generic wreckage you're after. We've all seen the response to the time distortion from the planet in response to the distortion from your ship._

"And, may I ask, what equipment that would be?" Jim asked. "If we knew what you were seeking in all this, we could--"

"As I'm sure Starfleet has let you know, we are a  _private_ research team," Winona interrupted, almost in the same voice Jim remembered her using on him as a child, when she was in a scolding mood. "I think it would be better for all concerned if your people would stay on the fringes, ready to respond if we should be interrupted. Beyond that, I'm sure we can manage fine on our own."

Jim felt stung by the note of rebuke in her voice, but just adjusted his own poker face to make sure he didn't show it. He backed up a step and waved an arm toward the wreckage. "Understood, Doctor Kirk. Please lead the way."

Winona nodded, then went to work, ordering her people to follow her readings up the incline and among the same path Jim and his men had already found. The next hour and a half were filled with both Jim and Winona giving orders to their teams as they made their way down the gouge to the various sized bits of wreckage.

The trail was a long one, as the ship had broken apart over quite a distance. Soon, Jim decided they'd need to order the shuttles moved closer to their position. If they could find a place to set down. With all the rocks dug up from the surface, they may not be able to set down all that close.

Winona's people worked quietly, only stopping their trek to follow her orders. At each bit of debris larger than a shipping container, she'd stop, and she and her aid would run diagnostics with their specialized equipment. Jim hung back with Spock and Bones, Chekov and his men, keeping an eye on the perimeter and the weather.

After they stopped to watch Winona and her people pick their way through twisted metal and debris to check the inside of a chunk of ship the size of a warehouse, Jim turned to Spock.

"Any idea who's ship this is yet?"

Spock looked up from his tricorder. "The ship was a conglomeration of various ship designs consisting of Orion, Tamarack and many compatible parts from various other species."

"Pirate ship?" Bones asked.

"Unknown," Spock said, raising an eyebrow at Bones. "There are many ships in the Federation itself that are conglomerates of various, registered designs, Doctor. Not all of them are used by those who wish to rob and plunder."

"But a lot of them  _are_ ," Bones argued. "We all know the Orion Free Traders have been making noises in this area. And so have a lot of civilians from the other Federation members. There could be contraband all through this stuff, if we only knew what we were looking for."

"Hard to tell, Bones," Jim said, eyes on Winona and her crew. "I also don't want to discount that this is a Tri-Fold ship, lost to some catastrophe and we're the rescue party."

"Would have been hard on any survivors, if we're a couple of years late," Bones muttered unhappily. "If they had provisions, those probably would have run out by now if they never made it off planet."

"The Federation has lost many ships throughout history," Spock said. "Unfortunately, that which is lost may not easily, if ever, be found."

"Or, it could be that Tri-Fold had something stolen from them and are here to get it back," Jim said with a shrug. "Plenty of theories, but no answers. And the Tri-Fold scientists don't seem to want to let us in on it."

_Although I think Starfleet Security knows damn well what they're looking for. Admiral Oberts wouldn't have us out here working security detail if he wasn't sure that the Federation needs to have a finger in this pie. So, why not tell us? Or is it me he doesn't want to know? Were we the only ones near and he had to make do, or were we sent here specifically?_

_Me in particular, because he knew my mother was head of the recovery team?_

_Too many questions. It's making my gut awfully unhappy._

 


	2. Part Two

    

 ***

 

The building-sized bit of the wreckage was warped and twisted on the ends where the metal had given way on impact. Winona had to twist her body to make it through the mangled corridor of the damaged ship. It was dark inside, forcing her to hold up a small light stick in one hand while using her specialized scanner in the other.

If it hadn't been for the tough suit she wore, she knew she would have been gathering cuts all over her body from the sharp metal edges around her.

_So close! The reading shows the artifact should be here! It **can't** be much further._

Her heart pounding, she inched toward an internal door. One that had been forced open and twisted on impact. Inside, her light revealed a large room and a jumble of boxes and containers. Obviously, a large storage area.

She froze as her light fell across a large piece of equipment at the far side.

 _The Portal!_ she thought with excitement.  _The Sarpeidon Portal! We've found all three pieces!_

As Winona pulled herself into the room, she was able to shove some of the boxes back and away, clearing a path for herself and the team that followed. As Wyatt came through and her light joined Winona's, she could hear her assistant gasp.

No one looking at it would suspect that it was part of the technology that the Sarpeidons used to travel to their own pasts. It was a wide, tall, half circle of raw and complicated electronics, almost the full width and height of a small room. In the center of the mass of alien technology was an opening. Wider at the bottom than the top, the opening would take only a few steps to clear.

But between one step and another was the difference between the present and the past.

"It's... large," Wyatt said in surprise, breathing deeply from the exertion of winding her way into the wreckage behind Winona.

"It  _is_ a portal," Winona said shortly. "From the bits we've seen on the library disk with their later history, all of the technology would have been hidden behind wall panels. All they needed open was the doorway."

"With the library disks and the Atavachron," Wyatt said. "It took all three to travel through time. And now we have them all."

"That we do," Winona said with a smile, closing her eyes and allowing herself a moment's joy.

"Doctor?" A man's voice said behind her. Amberdale, one of her team members, came up behind them both, his light added to theirs. His voice was uncertain. "We're not going to be able to move that with the equipment we have. Unless we find a way to dismantle it."

"It's _not_  to be dismantled."

"It would be dangerous to use the freight transporter." Amberdale said with a frown, his light playing over the edges of the large device. "The ion storms and the atmospheric--"

"I  _know_  the reasons why we can't use the transporter," Winona said shortly, glaring at Amberdale. "But I will  _not_  sanction dismantling a piece of alien technology if we don't have to. Not without testing it to see if it can be activated and all responses recorded. I won't move it just to find ourselves unable to put it back together. We will do our tests from here."

"From here?" Wyatt asked in surprise.

"That's why I had the disks, the disk station and the Atavachron placed on the shuttle," Winona replied. "This location will be safer to test all three items than on the ship in any case."

  _And what a fight that had been with Javelar. But even he had to let me have my way, knowing that we might need the other two articles to make sure we have the right equipment. Plus, the Sitta Caesia may not stand the kind of turbulence this project could generate. It could shake the ship apart, as we've already seen._

_He has no choice but to trust me. We're too close to the prize._

She turned toward Amberdale.

"Have the  _Marksman_  moved closer to this location, on the other side of that bulkhead. Bring back a construction phaser and we'll start disintegrating the debris out of that corridor and bring the other equipment in that way. I don't want a huge hole in that bulkhead to let the weather in. Even with a force field to keep the sand out, removing any of that bulkhead could destabilize it and cause the rest of the room to cave in. We'll punch a hole just big enough for the power cable and hook up the  _Marksman_ 's engines to the system. Get to work."

Amberdale nodded and turned to make his way back out through the corridor.

"I want to know how this all hooks up, before we attach the power cable," Winona said to Wyatt. "Scan every inch of it. We know how the Sarpeidons powered their equipment. You know what to look for."

"Yes, Doctor Kirk," Wyatt said, stepping toward the Portal.

Winona followed her, anxious to have everything ready to go.

She knew she may only get one shot at this, so was going to make damn sure it worked.

***

 

Four hours after landing, Jim found himself standing just inside the hold with Tri-Fold's team, feeling shocked. He had just gotten confirmation of what Spock had suspected as he watched Tri-Fold's teamwork.

Spock had approached Winona and asked about their discovery and the experiment they were setting up, offering his help. Her reply to Spock had made Jim wince. Jim had known what her response would have been if he had asked her, since her glares and evident disinterest in him was clear. Her attitude to Spock had been just as dismissive and cutting.

Jim had patched through to the _Enterprise_ , and had Uhura contact Admiral Roberts with their suspicions, requesting confirmation. Jim had insisted he couldn't help protect the Tri-Fold team if they were conducting on-planet experiments his people knew nothing about. He had Uhura attach copies of the damage reports from the turbulence that the _Enterprise_ had suffered, to prove that he was now on a 'need to know' basis.

He half expected to be told it wasn't any of his business. Or that Tri-Fold was not forthcoming. But hours later, her reply had been terse and to the point.

**Acknowledge that remnants of Sarpeidon Time Portal technology discovered. All information classified A-1. Render all assistance and protection for testing and recovery. Code CC798- Admiral Roberts**

_A time machine,_ Jim thought with trepidation.  _My mother has found a **time**  machine. This is  **bad.**  Really, really  **bad**._

That roil in his gut threatened to turn into a full-fledged tsunami.

He caught Spock and Bones's eyes as they stood across the room, out of the way of Tri-Fold's science team. The two wove their way around the busy area and came to him.

Jim handed his comm to Spock, who held it so Bones could read it as well.

"You were right," Jim whispered to Spock, who nodded and looked pensive.

"These are all parts to a time machine?" Bones asked worriedly. "So, all that turbulence was the three parts trying to reunite? Now that they're together, will all that time displacement wave get bigger, or not happen at all?"

Jim looked to Spock.

"Uncertain, Doctor. While the current understanding of the theories on time distortion are untested, the hypothesis is that the nearness of the proximity of the artifacts to each other will damper down the distortion. While we may have tremors and local disturbances, the orbiting ships should find the effect less traumatic than it has been before."

"Did the Sarpeidons have those problems?" Bones asked. "Wouldn't they have shaken their planet apart every time they used it?"

"I have no information on the Sarpeidons, their technology, nor anything the Tri-Fold team might have learned about them," Spock admitted. "There may be power or internal settings on the device itself that kept the technology from creating such a distortion. There are only a few things I  _do_  know about Sarpeidon at this time."

"And that is?" Jim asked furtively, eyes on the crew around the machine.

"Their sun went nova four years ago, just hours after the Federation became aware of their existence," Spock said. "They had only a single planet in their system, so had not invested in space travel early on, as most civilizations do. While the Federation contact was late, it seems that others had discovered the planet abandoned a few months, or even a few years, before its destruction."

"Abandoned? A whole world? If they didn't have space travel, where did they go?" Bones asked, then suddenly turned to look at the artifacts behind him at it came to him. "That's where the time travel came in? They all went back into the past or into the future?"

"Most likely their own past," Spock replied. "As word spread amongst the underground communities, more looters arrived. There are many Sarpeidon artifacts available on the black markets now. Most that have been identified tend to be such things as precious metals and artwork. I would suspect the scavenged technical items are only to be found in those underground auctions that cater to much wealthier, and more powerful, entities."

"Such as Tri-Fold," Jim said with a frown. "Or even the Romulans and Klingons. There's no telling how many time travel artifacts are still floating around out there. I can see where Tri-Fold can't afford to lose it, and Starfleet wants to make deals. This could be world, even universe, changing."

" _Time_  travel," Bones said, sounding stunned. "That's  _scary_ shit! I just can't see any good coming from something like that."

Jim watched as Winona's comm went off, and she pulled it up with a frown. Her frown turned into a scowl as she turned to glare at Jim before turning back to her work.

"My mother now knows that we have been informed," Jim told them with certainty. "And she's pissed. Spock? Why don't you go and offer your assistance again? Now that we're know what they've found, and what they're doing, there shouldn't be any reason for her to keep brushing us off."

Spock nodded and turned to leave. Jim could see he was itching to find out as much about the project, and the science behind it, as possible.

"Jim?" Bones said, moving close to Jim as Spock moved out of earshot. "If this works, it could be dangerous for your mother."

"I  _know_ ," Jim said, watching Spock approach Winona again. Jim could tell that her team was close to running their first test on the three artifacts as a whole. "Frankly, I don't think  _anyone_  should be messing with time. We've seen how devastating that could be. But my hands are tied. Code CC798 means that I have no leeway in this. This is Tri-Fold's show, and once they feel safe with the artifacts on board the  _Sitta Caesia_  we're to head back to the Federation and forget this happened."

"Do you really think that Tri-Fold will share with the Federation, or submit to rules and regulations the Council tries to impose if Tri-Fold can get it figured out?"

Jim sighed. "We already know something is going on between Tri-Fold and Starfleet, behind the scenes. That order for us to protect and support them tells me that Starfleet expects to get something out of cooperating with them. If they haven't gotten something already."

Bones frowned. "More alien technology that disappears into Starfleet's coffers somewhere?"

"I have no doubt," Jim admitted. "I also know that there's nothing we can do about it. Maybe someday, if I live long enough to make Admiral..."

Jim's comm buzzed.

"Kirk here."

"Captain?" Scotty's voice was full of static. "You've got a huge storm coming your way. You have twenty minutes until it will be impossible to navigate the surface. It should blow over in seven hours."

"Can the shuttles sit tight through it?"

"Yes, Sir. But they're nae flying in it."

"Send Sulu the information and send a message with all information to the  _Marksman_ as well. We'll either hunker down in the shuttles or in the wreckage. I think we're getting ready for a test of the recovered artifacts, and we have no idea if the time distortion wave will be a problem or not. Since you can't help during the storm, back off out of orbit and then return afterward."

"That'll put us out of contact," Scotty said worriedly.

"We'll be out of contact during the storm anyway. Just make sure you're back in orbit the second we can re-establish communications. Make sure someone doesn't slip in and ambush us on the way up."

"Aye, Sir. Understood.

"Any news on the ships coming our way?"

"Still traveling as fast as they can," Scotty said, his voice almost breaking up. "No change in schedule."

"Understood. Kirk out."

Kirk commed the  _Chercheur_.

"Sulu? Can you move closer? We've got a storm coming, and Scotty is going to send you the info. I have a feeling that the Tri-Fold group won't want to take cover until the last minute, if at all. Scotty says it should arrive in 20 minutes and blow over in seven hours."

"I think I can find a place nearer to the entrance," Sulu said. "I may be able to squeeze in between some of the smaller rocks."

"Scotty's informing the  _Marksman_. Since they're tied to the wreckage and providing power for the experiments, they're stuck in place. So, don't use them in any evacuation plans, unless there's no choice."

"Aye, Sir. Understood."

"Great," Bones huffed. "Just what we needed, a storm and a pajama party."

"Since we have some news to relate, let's go in and see what's going on," Jim said grimly to Bones. "Time to tread on their toes a bit."

Jim walked toward his mother, who was talking with Spock.

_At least she didn't send him straight away, like the last time._

"Doctor Kirk?" Jim said, catching his mother's eye. "I'm afraid we have a large storm coming in, which will hit this area in about 18 minutes now. There will be no communications possible with the ships in orbit, and I have ordered the _Enterprise_ to move out of orbit for its own safety. The shuttles and this part of the wreckage should be safe, but we will not be able to make trips to either one for the next seven hours or so."

"Seven hours?" Winona frowned. "Will the power feed from the  _Marksman_  be affected?"

Jim looked at Spock, who'd been listening. "The power feed should not be interrupted."

"Good, then we'll proceed." Winona walked away, calling to her team.

Jim stayed with Spock as Winona informed her team of the storm and gave orders for some of them to leave for the  _Marksman_ , and some to stay.

"Is she willing to let you observe now?" Jim asked quietly.

"Yes. Now that we know what the subject of her research and recovery efforts entail, she is willing to let us stay and observe."

"Good," Jim said. "At least we can gather more information and have it to hand, if everything goes to hell."

 

 

The next hour and a half had Jim, Spock, Chekov, and Bones standing around and watching while Doctor Kirk arranged for the test to begin. She obviously wanted to know if the Portal worked before being forced to have it dismantled, and she was anxious to know for sure before the storm ended. She knew that there were other ships on the way, and Tri-Fold was anxious to take their prize and leave. But not at the expense of damaging it beyond repair.

Jim had ordered the three Security men to wait out the storm in the  _Chercheur_. Doctor Kirk ordered the bulk of her team to shelter in the  _Marksman_ , now that the bulk of the physical labor and connections were made. That left nine people in the storage room when Doctor Kirk decided to run her experiment.

By then, the storm had hit, and the noise in the hold was almost deafening in places. The hurricane-speed winds blew sand and dirt in clouds that could scrub the skin off of any exposed flesh, and send a person flying. The bulkhead next to the artifacts was faced away from the direction of the winds, and the  _Marksman_  gave that area further cover.

So, Doctor Kirk decided to continue with her work.

"Wyatt, I want you on the Atavachron," Doctor Kirk ordered. "I'll set the disk in place once it's clear the Atavachron is online. Amberdale, you and the others make sure that all our instruments are recording. You know what to watch."

Unconsciously, Jim found himself walking closer to the artifacts. His mother was  _so_ close, only steps away from the Portal. If something went wrong...

"Doctor?" Bones stepped closer to Winona, one hand on his medkit and the other holding his med-scanner. "Since we don't know what kind of radiation this Portal may put out, do you mind if I scan the team while it's running?"

"Our own medics have never found anything harmful," Winona said with a frown.

"I understand your medics haven't had access to the Portal itself," Bones said. "Since you've just found it, there's really no telling if it will operate in the same way as your other equipment."

Jim watched as his mother studied his husband.

_It's like she's never even met him before. As if she has no reason to trust him._

_Is this whole project so important that she can't see us as anything but intruders?_

He was afraid he knew the answer to that.

"You are correct, in that we need more information," Doctor Kirk said after a moment's pause. "You may scan us, but transfer the information to our team as soon as the test is over and destroy your own recordings."

Bones looked at Jim, a question on his face.

_Better to have it if he needs it, then not have it at all. Even if we can't take it home with us. We need to pick our battles._

Jim nodded to him.

"Absolutely, Doctor," Bones said, and stepped next to the Portal, aiming his scanner toward the team now at the controls and those that stood outside the area.

"Are we ready?" Doctor Kirk asked loudly.

The four Tri-Fold team members answered in the affirmative.

"Power on!"

Jim could hear the tell-tale whine of power as the cable between the  _Marksman_  fed the artifacts.

"Atavachron, power on!"

The tech at the artifact punched several buttons, and the alien-looking monitor came to life. Various lights flickered over the monitor and several lights came on.

"Wyatt, send power to the disk platform."

The platform in front of Winona lit up. Reaching into a bag at her hip, the strap of which hung across her chest, she retrieved a round disk that was just larger than a saucer, or a small dinner plate. Carefully, Winona set the disk into the platform and it suddenly lit up. A light bar rolled across its surface.

"Wyatt! Adjust the frequency!" Winona ordered.

"Adjusting now."

Jim watched as Wyatt worked the controls on the machine in front of her, and the disk cleared. Some type of scene showed on it. Jim was too far away to see clearly, but it looked like a cityscape. One Jim didn't recognize.

_Sarpeidon? These machines were made to go back in time, and they had no contact with anyone else that we know of during their evacuation. Are we really seeing a years-long destroyed city?_

"Wyatt, come over here and scan the disk," Winona said. "Let me know if anything changes."

Winona pulled a small device from her bag and walked up close to the portal.

Bones frowned and turned his own scanner on her. He stepped a bit closer.

Jim took a step forward, concerned that they were too close to the Portal if something went wrong. But before he could react Winona gave the last command.

"Power to the Portal! Now!"

There was a bright flash from the artifacts and a sharp crack as power spiked. A fraction of a second later Jim, Spock, Chekov, and the other technicians were slammed back and down by the shock of the ground dropping and rising beneath them.

Burned into his brain was the image of Bones moving in front of Winona as she moved toward the Portal, Wyatt lurching toward the two of them and grabbing on to Bones's arm as he and Winona collided and fell into the Portal. Then the three winking out in a flicker of purple and blue flashes of light.

All before Jim himself hit the floor.

 

***

 

 

McCoy rolled, gasping as his shoulder hit the ground. He tried to avoid the young woman under him, twisting to the side but landing mostly on her anyway. Wyatt had fallen backward, and the back of her head hit the ground with a soft thump on the green mossy surface. He heard Winona's sharp grunt of breath as she landed on her stomach beside them, her head snapping as her chin hit the ground.

The first thing he noticed was the smell. It smelled like wet grass. The air around him had lost it's harsh, bitter dryness and there was a mild breeze on his face.

The green, mossy substance have under his hands as he pushed himself up. The three of them were outside, in the shade of a large dark-marble obelisk. Looking around, he saw they were in some sort of park, full of what looked like trees. Tall, sleek, windowless buildings in the shapes of circles and triangles in various colors of blue and white ringed the park.

Above them, a yellow sun seemed to flicker. McCoy had never seen a sun throw flares that were so visible before. Not while on a planet.

And it was silent. Deadly silent.

_'Bones! Mom! Wyatt! Can you hear me?'_

Jim's voice was muffled, as if from the other side of a wall.

McCoy pushed himself up, looking around. He was going to have a few bruises.

"We're here, Jim!" McCoy yelled, trying to find where Jim's voice had come from. "Can you hear me?"

_'Yes! Where are you? Are you all together?'_

"We're fine!" Winona yelled back, rubbing her chin as she looked around her. Her expression spoke of some kind of victory.

"Jim?" McCoy called. "I can't see you or the portal."

_'We can't see you either! Hold tight until we can get you back.'_

Winona turned to the obelisks, her voice sure and determined. "Do _not_  turn the machine off or attempt a rescue! We can find a way back, but there is something I need to find first. Do  _not_  attempt a recovery. That's an  _order_."

 _'You can get back?'_ Jim asked.  _’How? What is it you need from that side?'_

Winona ignored the questions and took a step out onto the open field. Wyatt joined her. McCoy hung back.

"It really worked," Wyatt said looking around them in astonishment.

"I knew it would, but... this is incredible," Winona said with a smile. She then seemed to freeze and shake her head. She took a small PADD-like device that hung from a strap across her chest and turned it on.

"It worked? This is  _Sarpeidon_?" McCoy asked with astonishment and more than a bit of apprehension, "You mean, we've really traveled back in time?"

Winona shot him a scathing look as she glanced up from her scanner's readings. "That's what the machine  _does_ , Doctor. This is Sarpeidon, before its sun went nova. This location and time was on the disk loaded into the machine."

McCoy took a breath.

_We're back in time on a dying planet? She acts like this is where she wanted to be._

"How long?" McCoy asked Winona worriedly. "Before the sun goes?"

"About three years. We think," Wyatt answered when Winona ignored him. She was looking around uncertainly. "We aren't really sure about the view on the time disk since we only had the visual to study. But we got a reading from the sunlight and know about what time period--"

"But, where are all the people?" McCoy asked, the deathly silence chilling him. The world didn't look dead at first glance, but there was the silence and the lack of movement. It felt like they were completely alone. "Are they all dead, or gone, already?"

"We believe that almost the whole population had evacuated by this time," Winona said. She seemed to be looking around for something. "We need to get moving."

Winona started to walk away. The obelisk behind them was covered in a mass of dot-like holes that McCoy could only assume was a form of writing. It was not in the center of the park. The building Winona was headed to was off to one side, and would take them away from the obelisk.

"Wait, where are you going?" McCoy asked in astonishment. "We need to get back to  _our_  time!"

"You're welcome to wait  _here_ , Doctor," Winona threw over her shoulder. "In fact, that would keep you out of the way. But there is something Wyatt and I must find before we can return."

"What? Wait. You can't go running off and--"

"I can do whatever I  _want_ ," Winona said matter of factly as she started to jog off. Wyatt threw him a worried look as she followed her boss across the mossy expanse.

"Jim? Spock?" McCoy shouted, touching the base of the obelisk. It felt solid and real.

 _'Doctor? Can you find the entryway to the Portal?'_ Spock asked, his voice hollow and thin.

"No! I know where we must have come out, but it feels solid," McCoy answered. "Jim? Your mother and Wyatt are leaving the area. I think she knows where she's going."

McCoy held his breath, waiting for instructions.

_If I stay here, they could get into trouble and I wouldn't know it. If I follow, at least I can help them find their way back._

_And that 'stumble' wasn't really an accident. She planned to come through. And Wyatt tried to stop me from stopping her._

_Like Jim, when Winona's got a plan then heaven help those who try to interfere._

Jim's voice came through and McCoy could hear the reluctance behind it.

_’Follow her. We'll work on this end to try to figure out a way to get you all back. Don't take too long, though. I have a feeling that we may be on borrowed time on how long we can keep the machine running.'_

"Understood," McCoy called, then turned to run after Winona and Wyatt. He caught up in a few moments. "Where are we going?"

Winona didn't answer, her sight on a huge, windowless, white building. There were wide metal steps leading up to the doors, which looked to be some sort of glass. What parts of the building that weren't sharp edges were rounded, giving it the look of chaos devouring order. The same design as the other Sarpeidon structures that surrounded them. Only this building had a look of abandonment and age.

If they were three years or less from annihilation, McCoy couldn't blame them for some neglect.

Winona strode up the steps and into the building. There were lights on here, so the building wasn't closed up. It was clearly built for use by large groups of people. The front area was open, with a front desk and beyond it a large, open area with a high ceiling. The top had thin panels of some material that let in the sunlight and on three sides of the open area were five floors, open to the center. They seemed filled with banks of metal drawers.

Winona barely stopped to orient herself, then strode ahead.

"It's the Library," Wyatt said quietly, her eyes wide as she looked around. She looked stunned. "We're really  _here_. In the  _Library_."

"What is she looking for?" McCoy asked, taking Wyatt's arm and turning her to face him. She froze. "Doctor Kirk came here on purpose. That wasn't an accident. What is she here for?"

Wyatt shook her head. "I don't know. This is Sarpeidon's major library.  _The_  Library. So, she must be looking for information. But whatever it is, we need it. That's all I need to know."

Wyatt pulled her arm out of his grip to follow Winona and he let her. He followed behind.

_I don't even have my tricorder. At least I have my medkit and scanner. But I doubt that's going to do any good in getting us back._

_All I need is to be stuck here on a dying world, unable to get back. Jim will have to come and get us if he can figure out that damned machine._

The central, first-floor area was filled with lounge chairs and desks, with what looked like live computer screens and round saucer sized round objects sitting here and there in holders and stacks. McCoy almost tripped himself when he saw his first Sarpeidon citizen at a desk in another row. Then he noticed more.

They looked humanoid, which didn't surprise McCoy anymore. The humanoid form seemed to have been seeded over thousands and thousands of worlds in this part of the galaxy. They looked like Terrans, although McCoy knew that they could differ quite a bit internally. But those he saw, maybe two dozen here and there in the large room and on a few floors, were all quiet.

_Normal to be quiet in a library, if this really is one. But not normal to look so lost. So haunted._

_I can't blame them. All they have in their future is destruction._

No one looked at them as they passed. Winona and Wyatt, with McCoy following silently, walked past all of them. McCoy saw Wyatt glance at stacks of the round disks they passed, as if they were treasures she could barely contain herself from grabbing.

They came to some back rooms, with the Sarpeidon script that McCoy couldn't read above the door. The collection of dots and wavy lines might have meant something to Uhura, or even be legible to the _Enterprise_ 's tricorder if he'd had one, but not to him.

It was clear that Winona could read it. She headed straight for a certain hallway.

Once inside they entered a maze of rooms and more storage units. They all startled when an older man in a black robe stepped out from behind a storage unit and greeted them.

"Greetings. I am the librarian. May I help you?"

The man wasn't speaking Standard, but they could hear the translation through Winona's scanner.

"We are from the South Province," Winona said, holding up the scanner as it translated. "We are here for important information."

"Certainly," The Librarian said pleasantly, then looked concerned. "I am here to help you choose a destination. There is yet time, but we still have many people making their way here to use the library’s facilities. Have you yet chosen yet? If so, we may proceed to the Atavachron."

"We have chosen, but we need more research first. We need your current technical information about the Atavachron," Winona said. "The latest stored records you have."

"Right this way, please," The Librarian said politely. He turned and walked further down the hallway, deeper into the maze of storage units.

The Librarian came to the open entry side room. "This way, please. Where you can be further assisted."

Winona stopped, then looked uncertainly back to Wyatt and McCoy. She then turned back to the Librarian. "We are in the Science and Research section?"

"Yes," the Librarian smiled at her. "All of Sarpeidon's current scientific knowledge, both government and private, is kept here."

"Good. My associates need help. They need to access the most current, archived information in their fields. In Quantum Physics and Medicine. Please help them."

"Of course." The Librarian nodded and held an arm out to indicate a location further down the hallway.

"Since you're here, make yourself useful," Winona ordered the two before she turned and walked into the other room. "I'll find out more about how the time portal works, so that we can return."

McCoy blinked in surprise and looked at Wyatt, who seemed stunned as well.

_Just like that? We can't read their writing, or I can't anyway. Are we're just supposed to spend months learning a new language, then jump neck deep into their whole library?_

"Ah, that is a little more specific. Those sections are down the hall," The Librarian said with a bow. "Please follow me."

McCoy stood still. Undecided if he should let Winona out of his sight. He had a bad feeling about all of this. And he didn't trust her.

"C'mon, Doctor," Wyatt said, taking a huge breath and grabbing his arm to pull him forward. "She's the boss. Let's go."

McCoy followed them reluctantly, his eyes on the doorway where Doctor Winona Kirk disappeared.

_God, we'll be here forever at this rate._

_I guess I can play along and hope Jim comes for us all._

_Sooner rather than later, hopefully. There'll be nothing left of Sarpeidon but scavenged goods, memories and burnt atoms if they wait too long._

_I'd rather not be here when that happens._

Just the thought of suffering the world's fate started to make him sweat.

 

***

 

Winona halted to a stop when she saw the Librarian seated at a table, in front of him a pile of data disks and a holder.

_How did he... Oh._

Of course. The use of androids had been peppered throughout the data that Tri-Fold had been able to pull from the storage crystals that taught them the Sarpeidon language.

The Librarian saw her and nodded as he stood. "You are ready to pass through the Portal?" He asked, pleasantly, then frowned when he saw the scanner in her hands. "Where is the disk of your choice?"

"You're an android?" Winona asked, watching him closely.  _I can't waste time with a replica. I need to speak to the real Librarian._

The Librarian's frown deepened. "Of course not. I'm Mr. Atoz, the overseer of the Library and the Time Portals. In the past ten years, during the evacuation, I only handle the passage of citizens through the Time Portals on this level."

"You have more than one?" Winona asked in surprise.

Mr. Atoz looked at her as if she'd asked him if the sun was bright. "Of course, there are. There are several on this level alone. Do you think we could have evacuated the hundreds of thousands of citizens over the last twenty years if we had only one device? Now, do you have your chosen disk?"

 _More than one? Of course, there are._ Winona shook herself.  _All I need is the one back on the wreckage. These others are most likely long gone. It was a miracle even one was taken by looters._

"I do intend to evacuate, but first I need more information on the Atavachron itself and the instructions on how to pinpoint a specific time and location in history. I am studying the machine and wish to take the knowledge with me," she added.

"Well, your basic knowledge of the technology must be limited indeed," Mr. Atoz said in a scolding tone. "For the Atavachron does not facilitate the time travel itself. The Atavachron prepares the body for life in the past. Without it, you would die. But it does not chose time nor place."

 _Prepares us for time travel?_ Winona thought with shock.  _Were we prepared? I assumed all three pieces were needed to put the Time Portal into operation._

"If one were not prepared and still used the time portal," Winona asked calmly, "how long would they survive?"

"Oh, only a few hours. Maybe four at the most," Mr. Atoz said, shaking his head. "Which is why all evacuations must be overseen and controlled. It would not do for someone to use the Portal before they were prepared. So, this would not happen. Not on my watch."

 _Four hours?_ Winona checked the time on her scanner.  _Forty minutes of that almost gone!_

"And if that were to happen, how would the evacuees return, so that they may be processed correctly? Say a group went through the Portal at the same time, to the same point in history. How would they return?"

"It would  _not_  happen," Mr. Atoz said unhappily. "We are all  _very_  careful."

"Please, indulge a scientist," Winona said, giving Mr. Atoz her best, most practiced, smile. "I have my reasons, and this is a bastion of Sarpeidon knowledge, is it not?"

Mr. Atoz looked her over, then sighed. "Fine. But if you are not ready to evacuate, please remember that I have other duties to attend to. I cannot explain such basic procedures all day. The three un-processed evacuees must return to the Portal together and enter it together. Then they will be returned to their original Portal and time. But they only have a short time to do so."

_Then I'd better be specific, if I only have a few hours left to move on from here. Once I learn how to focus the Time Portal to the Kelvin, I can leave from here. With no one to stop me, as long as I do it within the next few hours._

"I see. I'm afraid that as of now, Mr. Atoz, I have little time myself to retrieve the information I'm looking for," Winona said. "I must learn how to focus the Portal to a specific location, in a very specific portion of space, at a specific time in the past."

"Why can you not use what we have on offer?" Mr. Atoz said with a wave toward the hallway outside.

Winona thought fast.  _There has to be a reason. Something specific, or he won't help me. I don't have the time to go hunting for this information!_

Something came to her then. A reason for a Librarian overseeing the evacuation of his whole planet's civilization. Something he couldn't say no to.

"The truth, Mr. Atoz," Winona began earnestly, "is that I need the information to take back to a specific time and place. One not recorded in the library records. I cannot tell you how I have found this out, but in order for the Time Portal and the Atavachron to be 'invented', I will need to be there, with the information,  _as_  it is invented. If I do not arrive at the correct time, then all this..." She waves around her, "...will not be ready for all our people when it is needed."

Mr. Atoz blinked. "I see. And you are sure of this?"

"Of course," Winona said solemnly. "This must be done quickly, Mr. Atoz. I have not been prepared to stay here, since I must move on to this other time. I do not have the time to explain it to you, but the future is more... chaotic. With so few of us left before the sun goes nova, it's harder to find the information. Especially since you have been successful in your own evacuation. I need the information to adjust the Time Portal to that specific time and then leave for it--"

"What?" Mr. Atoz said in surprise. "You are from the  _future_? But... but you  _cannot_  travel to the past from  _here!_  That will kill you instantly! Only one time jump possible at a time! You must go  _back_ to your time, prepare yourself and then go to this other time from  _there_."

_So, even if I have the right settings, I **can't** get to the Kelvin from **here**? Then the three of us have only a few hours to get back to where the Portal is and enter it together. All or none. Can I double talk Atoz into giving me all the information I need to take back with me? Can I take enough data cubes to do it?_

_Then, even if it takes thirty more years of research, I'll at least know I'm on the right track._

It seemed to be roadblock after roadblock. Her headache started to return.

"Then I have very little time, it seems." She rubbed at her forehead. "This is critical to all Sarpeidon life, Mr. Atoz. Whatever technical information you have, I will need to either learn it here or be able to take it with me, so I can--"

"Do you really need this information to take with you?" Mr. Atoz asked worriedly. "Or do you just need a disk programmed with the correct time and location _for_ you?"

A spike of hope ran through her and she studied Mr. Atoz's face. "You can do that? Adjust a Time Disk to the correct time and location for me?"

"If you know the specific time and location coordinates, yes," Mr. Atoz said, looking anxious. "We have set and programmed _all_  the Time Disks in the library. It is part of what we do."

" _Yes_ ," Winona said quickly, relief flooding through her. She'd had those coordinates memorized for almost twenty years now, after much research and painstaking study. She knew the Kelvin's last hour in time and space, down to the second. "And we will be able to tell if we are successful, without using the disk in this time?"

"Yes. You should see the scene of the time you are trying to reach."

"Now," Winona said, need rushing through her like adrenalin. "We need to get a disk with my coordinates programmed now. We don't have much time."

"All right," Mr. Atoz said, shaking his head as he headed back out into the hallway. "We were warned of this. Playing with the past. You had better be right, or our whole civilization will suffer for it."

"Believe me, Mr. Atoz," Winona said, resisting the urge to hurry the man even faster. "If this works, the whole universe will be all the better for it."

_And I'll finally have the chance to save George! After that, anything will be possible._

_Anything._

 

***

 

McCoy could make neither heads nor tales of the information on the data crystals he'd looked at. The swirls of dots and wavy lines didn't even start to make sense to him. He couldn't read Sarpeidon script and his medkit was little better than a paperweight for that.

_I might as well be reading a children's book, even if it's in the right section. And since Winona has the only piece of equipment with a translator, no use asking the Librarian._

After a slow hour and a half, he felt as if he'd been wasting all his time. And it bothered him that Winona had not yet returned. Behind him, Wyatt was like a kid in a candy store, digging through the shelves of data crystals under the Librarian's watchful eye. Every time she put a crystal into the reader, it seemed like her face lit up even more.

_She can read Sarpeidon. So, Winona must be able to as well. Guess it's no surprise since they must have learned it to help them find that piece of the Time Portal._

_What the hell can they do with it? Even the question is scary. And Winona seems so obsessed with it. Has this been what she's been doing all these years?_

McCoy shut the last drawer on the data crystals and moved back to the hallway and closer to where Winona had left them. He pulled open a drawer and recognized the round disks as the same type Winona had placed onto the holder on one of her machines. Just like the holder on the wall next to the storage units. Taking a disk at random, he placed it in the wall holder and it instantly lit up.

Across the round scene of the disk, a scene played out. Like an old-fashioned 2D vid display, a scene of an old village flowed across it. There were carriages, pulled by actual horses and people dressed in strange clothing that reminded McCoy of something he'd seen in history classes. Some he'd even seen on Trelane's planet. The three-pointed hats reminded him of some he'd seen before he'd died there. The carriage moved along, and he could see the dirty sidewalks and the hard-looking, dirty, tired people passed by. After a few moments the scene played by again.

_Is this how they chose which period of time they go back too? Hell, there must be thousands of these disks, just on this level. Are all these Sarpeidon's past? Or can they go to other places? Other times? I can see where Winona...._

A chill flowed up his spine, making the hair on the back of his neck rise in gooseflesh as it came to him what Winona Kirk had been researching all these years.

_She's been looking for a way back. A way to time travel. A way to... save her husband? To change what happened to the Kelvin?_

The thought of time travel had always scared McCoy. It was the fodder for all kinds of nightmares and even in fiction rarely ended well. McCoy had always had the feeling that no matter how hard they tried, no species, except for the ones who were millennia more evolved, could really understand all the ramifications of messing with time.

_We're not wired to understand it all. And no matter how we try to dissect the universe and time itself, we'll never really do anything but scratch the surface of it. How can we mess with the flow of time and really understand what we're doing? The consequences of such actions?_

_And yet, who isn't looking for a way to do so?_

_The Federation, the Romulans and Klingons and maybe even Trelane's people. Whoever can get control of time, can remake things the way they want._

_Or think they can._

_And if Winona thinks she can, somehow, go back and save the Kelvin. She'd do it._

_Maybe that's why she's been so distant to her children, all these years. She wants to go back and have the future for them that Nero took away._

McCoy found his hand shaking as he snatched the disk out of the holder and placed it back into its drawer.

_Would I do the same, to save Jim? How could I say I wouldn't, no matter how long it took? No matter what, or who, I had to sacrifice?_

McCoy shut the drawer and went back to the hallway, looking for Wyatt. He saw her finger a data cube longingly under the watchful eye of the Librarian. He got the feeling that if she hadn't been watched, she'd be filling her pockets with them.

"We need to find Doctor Kirk," McCoy told her. "We need to get out of here. See if she's found a way for us to get back."

"That's what she's looking for, Doctor," Wyatt gave him a glare just before she replaced the crystal.

"Is she?" he asked, hissing angrily. "That really wasn't an accident, was it? She planned on distracting everyone, so she could come back to Sarpeidon's past to find something, didn't she?"

Wyatt turned to him angrily. "How can you say something like that? You don't even know her! Why would she do something like that?"

"No, I  _don't_ know her," McCoy said with a growl, "but I know  _of_ her. She's brilliant and forceful when she wants something. And I think I know what it is she wants. She's here to find something, something that will make her able to travel in time to where she wants. And it's not Sarpeidon's past she's interested in, is it?"

"This was an accident," Wyatt said forcefully. "She's trying to figure out a way to get us back."

"Get us back, or get her husband back?"

A hit like a bolt of lightning struck him in the back and he fell, his extremities twitching as he fell to the floor. His brain stuttered, and his sight dimmed. But he could still hear as his body jerked and his eyes rolled.

"No! No!" A voice that sounded like the Librarian's was frantic. "You  _cannot_  do that! Not in  _here_!"

"He'll be fine," Winona's voice said calmly from somewhere above McCoy. Her voice grew closer as he fought to gain control against the tremors. "But he's a danger to my mission. He would stop us from returning to our proper time. I can't let anything stop me now, or Sarpeidon will suffer."

"But you  _need him_  to return to the future!"

"Which is why he's still alive," Winona said sounding close enough to be squatting down next to him. He twitched and gasped as he tried to breathe. "Have your men find a gurney or something to carry him. We don't have much time to return to the Portal."

McCoy heard someone move off and call for help.

"What will you do with him?" Wyatt asked, sounding more curious than concerned. "Who was that man who looks like the Librarian? What did he mean when he said we need him to get back?"

"We came through the Time Portal as a group. We must return as a group." Winona said matter-of-factly. "The rest is on a need-to-know basis. Go and help them get him mobile. If we don't go back through the Portal very soon, we will die. Go."

McCoy could hear Wyatt leave.

McCoy fought to look at her, but none of his muscles were working. It was all he could do to breathe regularly. He could feel her opening the medkit at his waist. He fought to stop her, knowing how lethal some of the drugs he carried for emergencies were if combined. And how debilitating some were if used in the wrong strength. He had no idea what Winona knew of the medicines he chose to carry for emergencies.

He hung on to the fact she'd said she needed him alive. He had no more control now than he did a few minutes ago, so couldn't stop her.

"I would be sorry, Leonard," Winona whispered to him, not sounding as if she really cared. "But soon, none of this will matter. I don't know if your life, once this timeline is corrected, will be better or worse without my son in it. But he has a destiny to fulfill and will do so free and unattached. And I will finally get my real family back. At least, you will never know the difference once everything changes. And, thankfully, neither will I."

McCoy felt the stinging hiss of a hypo at his neck. Heat flowed through the vein and up into his brain. He tried to figure out what she'd given him and how much.

He blacked out as one more tremendously painful spasm twisted him.

 

***

 

Jim paced back and forth in front of the Portal, his arms crossed across his chest. The howling wind from the physical storm, driven into gale strengths by the ion storm above it, still cut them off from contacting their ships or taking off. The wind whistled through the small hole in the far wall. The Tri-Fold team had phasered through it for the power conduit from the  _Marksman_. Jim was glad they hadn't decided to blast open a full doorway. Without a shield to keep it out, the wind would have ripped through the room like a wraith after souls. They'd had enough packing fabric to stuff around the hole in the wall allowing in the conduit, sealing it as well as they could to keep the dust and dirt out.

As it was, the wild, harsh gusts gave them all a constant reminder of why they didn't dare go outside.

They could request no help and after almost three hours of waiting, could offer no help to the three who'd gone through the Portal. So far, they didn't even dare try. Doctor Kirk and her assistant were the most knowledgeable people on Tri-Fold's away team. They'd taken the bulk of Tri-Fold's knowledge with them.

Jim watched Spock carefully study the controls of the Atavachron for what must be the dozenth time. He was checking and rechecking the readings on his tricorder. Chekov and two of his Security men were there as well as four Tri-Fold scientists. The others were sitting safely in the shuttle. The Tri-Fold scientists had been of no help, confused and concerned themselves. All they'd been able to do was insist that no one touch anything.

Jim was fighting the urge to push Spock on. To get him to  _do_  something, although Jim had no idea what he could even suggest. They knew practically nothing about the two artifacts or the disks.

They didn't dare touch a thing and risk trapping their people in the past of another world. And it was slowly driving him mad.

Spock stood from his inspection of the power conduit, then turned to come toward Jim. Jim turned and walked to a dark corner of the wrecked storage room, away from the others so they could have some privacy. Jim signaled for Chekov to join them. Just in case.

"Captain," Spock began grimly, "I believe what Doctor Kirk's team tells us is true. We cannot take the chance of touching the machine and disrupting its function in any way. The present settings seem to be holding. If any changes are made, or the power gives out, then we may not be able to open the Portal again."

"And they won't be able to return," Jim said grimly. "Don't any of her team have any idea why my mother would lead them away from the Portal? What is she looking for?"

"Unknown to us and apparently to her own team," Spock said.

"Doctor Kirk should have  _some_  information about what is on the other side," Chekov said. "That should help her, and the others, return. Yes? Maybe... she is asking the natives for help?"

"We can hope. About this accident..." Jim sighed, shaking his head. He lowered his voice even more. "Am I the only one who seriously doubts that this was one?"

Spock raised an eyebrow. "You do not believe that their passing into the Portal was unintentional?"

"Bones definitely didn't mean to go. Wyatt? Maybe she did. But I have this feeling that Doctor Kirk knew damn well what she was doing. She had control of the machine, apparently knows the basics of running it, picked that specific disk to load into the machine and had experienced those turbulent effects before. And once through the Portal she takes off for an unknown destination? No. That doesn't feel like an accident to me."

Spock looked concerned and Chekov blinked slowly as he thought it over.

"She does have the superior understanding of the equipment," Spock admitted.

"Her team ees very tight-lipped on the subject," Chekov added. "They do not seem to trust us or want to share. Very bad in cases like this, not to ask for our help."

"Which could mean they're confident in her being able to handle the situation, so don't need us. Or, at least, don't want our help if they can avoid it." Tired and frustrated, Jim rubbed at his eyes. "They figure that she knows what she's doing over there, even though the situation is unexpected, possibly dangerous and fairly crazy. They seem content to wait it out and trust."

Looking up, Jim saw some amusement in Spock's eyes. "I do believe that I understand the attitude, Captain. It seems to be a trait of the Kirk family line, to endear such trust in others."

"Trust us to get  _into_  trouble," Jim asked with a sigh, "or  _out_  of it?"

Spock's eyebrow rose. "Both, I would say."

Chekov tiled his head and gave Jim a shy smile in agreement.

Jim shrugged. "Had to get it from somewhere, I suppose. But the waiting part is a bitch. I'd rather have been in Bones's place than stuck here. How much longer will this storm last?"

"I believe the original estimate was that conditions would keep us from contacting the ship for approximately seven hours. That was slightly more than three hours ago," Spock replied.

"Sulu is  _very_ good. Provided we could get to the shuttles," Chekov added, "we could leave the planet sooner, I think. At least, maybe an hour sooner than the ion storm would allow us to communicate with the ship."

"Then about two hours before Tri-Fold could comm their team new orders, or order us out of the way," Jim said. "An hour, maybe less before we can get to our own shuttle."

_Two hours might be enough time to start a rescue without either side interfering. Get to the other side and scout out the area. But even the Tri-Fold team doesn't know if the Sarpeidons ever used it for two-way travel. Once there, everyone could be stuck in Sarpeidon's past._

Jim saw Spock's eyes sharpen, but his voice was controlled.

"You are contemplating sending a rescue team and that Tri-Fold, or their team, will object. So, you would do so before we can make contact with their ships or ours."

"I  _am_  contemplating that," Jim said honestly. "Very seriously."

"But what if the rescue team gets stuck there as well?" Chekov asked in surprise.

"Not a team.  _Me_ ," Jim said decisively. "If they need help, I can find them and be that help. If they can't come back... Then Spock can take command of the ship and report us all lost in the past."

Chekov bit his lip, looking back and forth between the two with concern.

_That's Bones and my mother over there. I **can't**  leave them there. Not without me. I'd rather be with them there than live the rest of my life without them, wondering if they'd died on that planet. Spock understands. He doesn't like it, but he won't stop me._

Spock looked unhappy. His tone was grave. "If it  _must_  come to that and there is no return through the Portal, there would be a way off planet before its destruction."

"It was being looted, for at least several months before the sun went," Jim said. "We could find a ride off Sarpeidon that way. Not that I'd want to be hanging around pirates for a few years, but it's possible. We'd know they were coming."

"But, Keptain?" Chekov began, looking as if he were just warming up to an interesting intellectual discussion. "If that were to happen, would you not contact the Federation once you returned to it? The sun went nova four years ago. I think the Federation would notice if there were an older version of you and Doctor McCoy in existence."

Jim shook his head. "They may well know and decided not tell us. For their own reasons."

Spock's eyebrow rose as he looked at Jim.

"Alternatively, the older version of yourself, McCoy and Doctor Kirk might have decided not to make contact with the Federation until after  _this_  date."

"This could get... very complicated," Chekov admitted with a grimace.

"Which is why time travel is a  _horrible_ idea. For  _many_  reasons." Jim sighed and shook his head. "Worse comes to worst, I'll be with my husband and mother, whatever happens. We'll give it another hour. Chekov see what we can scavenge here that might help me over there. A weapon, or some way to track them. Hopefully something that won't get me arrested right off if the Sarpeidons spot me. If you can't find anything, we'll have to see if we can survive a run to the  _Chercheur_  and back."

"Yes, Sir."

After Chekov left, Spock moved closer, his eyes showing his determination. He lowered his voice even further. "Jim, if they should need help, it would stand to reason that two in the rescue party would be better than one. I could also--"

"No," Jim said firmly. "I need you  _here_ to watch Tri-Fold's team. They may try to stop me. And I need you to take command of the _Enterprise_ if I don't return. Make  _sure_  the ship gets home safe. I wouldn't want you to get stuck with us if it doesn't work." Jim gave Spock a knowing look. "You have people  _here_  who need you. Mine are  _there_."

"I would remind you that the Vulcan lifespan is much longer than a human's," Spock said, looking as if he were gearing up to argue his case logically. "Three or four years in the past would not affect me as it would you. I would barely notice the time passing. Nyota would understand."

Jim couldn't help it. A small smile tugged at his lip as he thought of Ambassador Spock, this Spock and maybe a slightly older Spock that could be living in hiding somewhere for four or more years, just waiting for this one to leave.

"And have  _three_  of you in the same universe at the same time? I'm not sure the universe could survive that many Spocks. It'd overload.  _No_. You're staying."

Just then, the ground shook again as the Portal whined and filled with a sparkling mist. Jim, filled with hope and fear, stepped toward the Portal.

Winona and Wyatt, carrying an unconscious Bones between them fell through the Portal, all three hitting the ground as the two women tried to keep Bones from dropping like a rock.

Jim reached them the same time as everyone else.

" _Bones_?  _Mom_? You okay?" He asked her as he squatted beside her and Bones, Spock on the other side. He looked her over and she seemed fine, just a small bruise on her chin.

She nodded, pushing herself up, then standing. "I'm fine."

Jim turned to Bones, who hadn't moved or responded. Spock was checking his pulse.

"Thready," Spock said with a frown.

"What happened to him?" Jim asked, looking for Bones's medkit. He and Spock could both use the basic settings on most of the equipment. But the medkit was gone. He looked up at his mother and Wyatt.

"We encountered some weapon fire from the natives," Winona said calmly. "He was hit."

"Do you know the nature of the weapon?" Spock asked. Chekov brought over some fabric packing and put it under Bones's head.

"No," Winona replied, matter-of-factly.

 _We can get him to the shuttle, even if it can't fly,_ Jim thought, worried. _At least he's breathing._

"Why did you leave the Portal?" Jim asked, turning to watch Winona and Wyatt as they turned to talk to their team members. Winona still had her bag. It looked a bit heavier to Jim. "What were you after that got you into a confrontation with the natives? What happened to McCoy's medkit?"

Winona shot Jim a frosty glare. "I found us a way home, Captain. That's all the Federation needs to know for now."

Jim fought back an angry reply as Winona walked to the disk mounted in the terminal, then pulled it out of the machine. The Portal went dark. She put it in the bag slung across her chest and walked to the corner, waving in her team in around her.

Wyatt threw Jim a sympathetic glance as they moved away. Winona didn't give them a second look.

 _He tried to save her and Wyatt, from what he thought was an accident!_ Jim was angry, but not surprised.  _She just doesn't care, about him or how losing him would have affected me. Or what happened back there. Something went on over there and now he can't tell us and his medkit is missing. Have they changed Sarpeidon's history in some way?_

_And how the hell would we know if they did?_

Jim turned back to Bones and put his hand on Bones's face. He wasn't coming around.

"We need to get him on the shuttle and back to the ship, the minute it can take off," Jim said to both Chekov and Spock. "We need to get him on some kind of litter. It'll take more than the three of us."

"There ees some packing fabric over there. It should hold his weight," Chekov volunteered.

"Go get it. I'll tell Doctor Kirk we need to borrow a couple of her men to help us evacuate him."

Reluctantly, Jim rose, hoping that any second Bones would open his eyes and sit up. He turned to the Tri-Fold group, who were whispering excitedly in the corner. On his approach, Wyatt saw him and caught Winona's eyes. She turned and walked toward him, away from her group.

"Yes, Captain?"

Jim felt stung once again by the disinterest in his mother's eyes. Knowing that his reaction to her attitude could make things between them even worse, he tried to deaden all the feelings that were rushing to come out and keep it business-like. If ever he needed to be  _The Captain_ , it was now.

"Can you tell us anything about the weapon they used?" Jim asked. "You've studied them. What can you tell us about their defenses?"

"Nothing," she said, glancing over at Bones. "Not my field of study. It was some kind of hand held device and he was hit in the back. He went down immediately. Other than that, I have no idea."

Jim nodded slightly.  _Is she lying? Why can't I tell? Why do I even suspect she is?_

"And his medkit?"

"I have no idea."

_Nothing. She's going to give me nothing. And it doesn't bother her._

"We need to get him to the shuttle just as soon as the wind dies down. Then get him to the _Enterprise_ ," Jim said grimly. "We'll need some of your men to help us with a litter."

She nodded. "Fine. How long until you can move him to your shuttle?"

"Maybe an hour, or less depending on the winds."

"And contact with our ships?"

"Two, at the earliest."

Something on Winona's face changed then and Jim wasn't sure what it was. She seemed on the verge of... smiling.

"We need to go over the data from the accident," She said, carefully schooling her features. "But that can wait. I'll have my team help you get Doctor McCoy to your shuttle."

"Thank you."

Winona turned to her team, giving them orders to help move the Doctor. Her team, minus Wyatt, came over and they all managed to carefully roll Bones onto a length of the tough fabric padding that had protected the Atavachron while moving it inside the wreck. Some was found to cover Bones.

The six of them, each holding a part of the litter, carefully made their way through the long hall of the wreckage. They stood just inside the last wall that protected them from the outside. Here, the wind had blown in sand through the cracks in the metal around them. The air was thick with dust and the sound of the wind beating on the metal was loud, but Jim could tell it had died down some.

Spock, signaling that he was letting go of the litter, waiting until everyone had adjusted their holds, then took out his tricorder. Bones still had not moved. Spock took several readings, then came over to Jim to lean close, raising his voice.

"The ion storm is still too severe for communication with the ship. The wind is following a circular motion now, creating a tornado. It is moving fast, and we will have the eye of the storm upon us in a few minutes."

"Will that give us time to get to our shuttle safely?"

"Yes, if we hurry."

"Can you contact Sulu? We'll need him to get that door open and closed behind us quickly."

"I will do so just before the eye hits."

"Good. Give us a heads up, then we'll run for it."

Spock nodded, and Jim leaned in to tell Chekov and the word was passed around the group. Spock and Chekov pulled up the hoods from the back of their suits. Jim knew he wasn't the only one who would be grateful for the eye covering. He signaled to Spock that he needed to pull Bones's head covering up and Spock took a better grip so that Jim could release his hold. Carefully, uncomfortable that he wouldn't be able to tell if Bones was still breathing with the hood up, he pulled it from its hidden pouch at the back of Bones's neck and covered his head.

_At least, it'll keep him from breathing so much of that crap out there. On the good side, maybe it'll be enough chaos around him to wake him up._

The suits the Tri-Fold team were wearing apparently weren't as well equipped. Jim would have to watch that none of them tripped or dropped out. They'd be lost once the other side of the dying storm hit them.

About fifteen minutes later, Spock dropped his tricorder to his waist, grabbed a corner of the litter and nodded. As a group, they left the shelter of the wreck and started toward the direction of the  _CherCheur_.

It was as if he had stepped into the center of a storm and not the fringe of it. The wind pushed and shoved at him and the shifting dirt under his feet almost tripped him up. The wind whipped the fabric from over Bones and with one strong gust sent it flying, hiding it from sight before it was meters away. There wasn't any help for it but to keep moving as Spock indicated. Even though his eyes were covered by the protective lenses of the hood, Jim still winced as particles came at his face. He could barely see through the tan cloud of dirt and sand that flew around them. Every movement had to be forced and made progress feel slow.

It seemed to take forever to get to the shuttle's door.

When they did, they all practically fell to the floor as the door slammed shut behind them.

"Someone's hurt?" Sulu asked anxiously as he squatted next to Bones's litter which they all tried to lower carefully to the floor. Sulu cautiously pulled off Bones's hood. The rest of the _Enterprise_ crew pulled off theirs and the Tri-Fold crew gasped for fresh air and rubbed at their eyes and faces. Sulu looked up at Jim in surprise. "What's happened to the Doc? Do we need the shuttle's Emergency kit?"

Spock was already heading for it.

"He was shot by an unknown weapon," Jim said breathlessly. "We don't know what with."

Sulu's face went hard. "We're under attack?"

"No. I'll explain later. Get one of the bunks pulled down and we'll get him on that. Then get everyone else some water and some towels to clean their eyes and faces."

"Yes, Sir."

It took them a few minutes to get Bones situated on the pull-out bunk. Spock ran the shuttle's med-scanner over him as the rest tried to clean the dirt out of their eyes, noses, ears, and mouths. Jim sat on the edge of the bunk, by Bones's feet. Watching. Bones didn't stir.

"His system is slow in responding to stimuli and his central nervous system is depressed. His blood chemistry is off and there are some unknown chemicals in his blood. They do not seem to be organic and his liver seems to be filtering them out, although slowly. I do not see any physical damage to his body."

"Chemicals?" Jim said, confused. "From a hand-held weapon? That's strange."

"Yes," Spock said with a frown. "It may take three or four hours, but the readings say that his own system will filter out the chemicals. It estimates he will awake in a few hours and be very weak."

"Would a saline drip help?" Jim asked.

"No. The prescribed advice from the med-scanner is to allow it to happen naturally."

"So, another hour before we can contact any of the ships. Two hours before he can tell us what happened." Jim sighed and put his hand on Bones's arm. "At least he's  _back_. They're  _all_ back."

"Yes," Spock said, looking grim. "But that also means that the Tri-Fold team have successfully traveled through time and back, using the Sarpeidon’s equipment. And we do not know what Doctor Kirk needed to retrieve to do so."

Jim could see the worry in Spock's eyes.

_He's had more experience with the repercussion of time travel than most. And he's right. What kind of Pandora's box have we opened now? What did Mom need to make the return trip? And how often can they do it? What if they're able to use it to go where they want, rather than just Sarpeidon?_

_What kind of mess would the universe be, if anyone can do that?_

_Anyone with the power. And no one ever keeps that kind of power to themselves forever._

"It's scary," Jim agreed tiredly as he gave Bones's leg a pat and stood up. "And it's one genie we can't put back in the bottle. Not now."

Jim looked at the Tri-Fold team, who seemed none the worse for wear. "Everyone okay? Get ready, because we'll head back in a few minutes. We--"

"Back?" one of the men asked with confusion. "Doctor Kirk ordered us all to stay on  _this_  shuttle until we could walk to our own. She said we wouldn't be needed again until tomorrow and we'd meet up later on the  _Marksman_."

"She did?" Jim asked, feeling a trickle of unease snake its way up his spine. "It's just her and Wyatt left in there, right?"

"Yes, Sir."

The uncomfortable feeling grew worse. Jim needed to get back to his mother.

"Sulu? The wind is dying down, right?"

"Both the physical and the ion storm," Sulu said with a nod. "We should be able to take off within the next hour or so."

"I'm going back in to get them. That way we'll be ready for liftoff as soon as we're able. Contact the  _Marksman_  and let them know, that as soon as we can we're dropping off their people and our security team on that side of the wreck and heading back to the _Enterprise_. Chekov, you stay with your team on the  _Marksman_. I have a feeling Doctor Kirk is not going to let them unplug any of it until she's ready. I want a guard here in case we have visitors from those other ships drop in."

"And if she will not come?" Spock asked quietly as soon as the others started to find a place to sit and rest for the next hour.

Jim sighed. "She' probably won't. But I doubt that we'll get anyone trying to steal the artifacts from them if they can't land in all this. If I'm not back by the time you can fly, get her team back to their shuttle and then Bones to M'Benga. Sulu can make a trip back once that's done. On the way, once beyond the ion storm, have Chekov call ahead for a replacement security team. Won't hurt to have fresh men ready for trouble."

"And once aboard the _Enterprise_?"

"Spock, you know the orders. You'll have to access the situation and do what you need to do." Jim gave him a slight smile. "You don't need me to spell it all out for you. I trust your judgment."

Spock nodded and stood to follow Jim to the shuttle door. Jim pulled up his hood again and accepted Spock's tricorder.

"The entrance will show on the screen and the location of the boulders is programmed in. The wind has died down a bit more, so you shouldn't have any problems."

"Got it. Open the door."

The wind was still strong and wild, and Jim could only take Spock's word that it had died down some. Feeling as if he was moving in slow motion, Jim followed the direction on the tricorder's screen. By the time he found the wreck's torn entrance, he felt like he'd just run two marathons. And lost.

He pulled off his hood and made his way down the winding corridor, careful to keep to the center of the melted passageway the Tri-Fold crew had created. Just because some of the edges of the metal had melted didn't mean they couldn't be razor sharp where some of it had fractured. He made one final turn in the dark corridor, keeping his hand-light on the floor in front of him, when a building hit him.

Or, what felt like a building.

It blew him back and he gasped as his body hit the floor, every muscle twitching or spasming in some way. His lungs buckled, and he fought to draw breath, as his body flopped helplessly, and his eyes rolled back.

"I'm sorry this was necessary," his mother's voice came to him as he struggled to control his limbs and lungs. "But you'll understand, soon. I knew you would come back, Jim. You never would leave things well enough alone. But I barely nicked you. You’ll have to be restrained.”

_What? What did she do to me? Is this what happened to Bones?_

He felt his hands pulled together and something metal snapped around his wrists. Then his feet. Then his wrists were taken again, and he was dragged into the room with the artifacts. His mother swiveled him around so that his feet were toward the experiment and then pulled up on his shoulders, slipping packing materials behind his back until he was almost in a sitting position in front of the machine. Jim glimpsed Wyatt's feet and legs on the floor across the room, her body half-hidden by the dark and debris.

_She's shot Wyatt too? She doesn't want anyone to stop her. What is she up to? Is she crazy?_

"Wh...why?" Jim finally got his mouth to work and his eyes to look ahead. He tried to move his hands, but he was handcuffed with something and he barely had the strength to move them. The weight around his ankles made them feel like they were glued to the ground.

Winona was moving about, but he couldn't make out what she was doing outside of the lights trained on the Portal.

When she came back into the light, Jim was surprised. Winona had changed clothing. She was no longer in the survey-team suit provided by Tri-Fold. She was wearing an old-style, blue two-piece uniform, with a black belt and shoes. The thick blue piping at her collarbone and down her arms made the suit look more militaristic than anything else. The only bit of color on it was the gold braid at her wrists, the outline of the Kelvin's insignia on her chest and the gold of the old-style communicator on the belt. Jim recognized the old braid style for a Commander. Her hair was pulled back tightly, in a neat bun at the back of her neck.

Jim felt stunned. She was in the old-style uniform worn on the Kelvin.

"I suspect you already  _know_  why, Jim." Winona's voice echoed grimly through the room as she studied him. "You can guess what I've been looking for since the day you were born. You're not what you should be, but you're not stupid. And now, I've found the way to do it. After all this  _time_."

"Time travel." Jim worked out the words as his muscles twitched randomly. "You've... spent all these years... looking for ways to time travel."

Winona turned away from him and walked to the machine. On the floor in front of it was the bag she'd taken to Sarpeidon and returned with. She bent down and took something out of her bag. She pulled out a disk identical to the ones he'd seen earlier and set it on the holder in their improvised consol. Jim could see it light up and something play across the screen. He couldn't see what it showed, but Winona looked mesmerized by it.

"I've been chasing it like a dream. My real life just out of reach," Winona said softly. She reached out gently and touched the screen of the disk. "And now, thanks to the Sarpeidon's I've found my link to the Kelvin."

Jim's blood froze in his veins. 

_All these years, I should have known. What else would a quantum physicist spend her whole life doing? Sacrifice her friends and children for?_

_S_ _he's spent her whole life wanting to get back to the Kelvin. Now she can!_

"You  _can't_  stop it," Jim said, trying to hold the panic out of his voice. "Mom?  _Listen_  to me. You  _can't_ stop Nero, or the Narada, from coming through the wormhole. You  _can't_ \--"

"Of course I can't," Winona spat angrily, turning to glare at him. "I'm just one person. You think I don't  _know_  this? That I haven't studied everything there is to know about the Narada and Nero and what happened that day?"

"Mom? I was  _on_  the Narada, at the final battle. There was only  _one_  thing that stopped it and the ship with the red matter won't come through until after the Kelvin is  _long_  gone! Until  _Dad_  is long gone..."

Jim stopped and tried to control the panic coming out in his voice. He was shaking. "Mom,  _listen_  to me. You  _can't_ stop it. You'll just go back and die on that ship. Vulcan will still be --"

"You don't  _understand_ ," Winona said softly, her eyes back on the disk. "I'm not going back to save Vulcan. I'm not going back to destroy the Narada or convince Nero that he had no reason for his revenge. Who am I to say he wasn't justified?"

Winona closed her eyes and seemed to drift off for a moment.

"Mom? You'll  _die_  back there."

Eyes closed, Winona smiled dreamily.

" _This_  version of me will. As soon as I correct the mistake, this universe will never have happened. George will be alive, and we'll have those fifty years with each other. He'll raise you and George, and we'll be the family we were meant to be."

Winona looked at Jim then, sympathy in her eyes.

"The Narada's history tapes were recovered by the Klingons when they were first captured. The Klingons never could get into the Narada, but they were able to connect to the ship and hack their way in. Far enough to discover and piece together the files containing the Federation History tapes. They were sold on the black market and Tri-Fold bought them."

She smiled then. "That's when they recruited me. They want time travel almost as much as I do."

She took a few steps forward and squatted in front of Jim. She smiled, and this time it truly showed in her eyes.

Jim couldn't ever remember seeing that look on her face. But then, he'd barely seen her at all through his whole life.

"You were  _famous_  in that universe, Jim." She reached up and touched his face lightly, as if she were seeing him for the first time. "For your intelligence and bravery. Your willingness to sacrifice yourself for the greater good. You saved cultures and civilizations. Because your father _survived_ to raise you. To teach you how to be like  _him_. Not like you are _now_."

Her words hit him like a slap. Words he had always known would be coming from her one day.

Nothing he had done had ever been good enough for her. No choice he had ever made had been the right one. Even his choice to join Starfleet had her acting like it had been done too late in his life to make her proud. Or to make her care.

"Is that all I've ever been to you?" Jim asked, feeling sick. "Someone who hasn't lived up to his lost life? A _disappointment_?"

"I'm going to  _save_  us all," Winona said, as if it were a promise. She stood and walked back to the machine. "When I go back and change things, we'll be who we're supposed to be. This version of myself will disappear and get to relive it all, with George. This universe will _never_ have happened."

She stopped and turned to look at Jim with a smile. "There will be no memory of this false life. You won't remember it to miss it. And neither will I."

"It won't work!" Jim said angrily. "You'll still live. That other Winona will never be you. There's something you don't know! When the Narada came back, they changed some things, for the Federation. But coming back didn't change their memories. Someone  _else_  came back with them and he remembers his own universe. He  _didn't_  disappear or go on to relive his life with the changes. There are now two--"

"Ambassador Spock," Winona said, shocking him. She smiled and shook her head, going back to the bag she'd carried. She took out two large, unlabeled tubes. "I suspected who he was when I met him at your wedding. Things started to make sense to me then. Tri-Fold has checked him out and they know who he is as well. They even thought they'd approach him in some way. Find out how he and the Narada managed to come through that anomaly. So we could re-create it. But..."

She shrugged as she squeezed a portion of some thick clay-like substance onto her hands from one of the tubes.

"He is very well regarded now that Vulcan is gone. And very well protected and connected. There was no way to get to talk to him without actually kidnapping him. And you can imagine how hard it would then be to get him to talk. So, while we've known of his existence, Tri-Fold has followed other leads. Such as the destruction of Sarpeidon and the mystery of what happened to its citizens."

She squeezed more of the thick substance from the second tube, then rolled both together in a ball in her hand, mixing the compounds.

"But he changed  _his_  past. And he  _didn't_  disappear," Jim insisted.

"Jim," his mother said chidingly. "Time is not all one thing. And it behaves in various ways. We believe that Ambassador Spock, and the Nerada, didn't really go back into their own time. They slid sideways into _our_ universe."

She frowned as she set the ball of mixed compounds aside and started another. "They created havoc in _our_ timeline, not theirs."

"Mom,  _listen_  to yourself," Jim said, his voice soft and pleading. "If that's  _true_ , then the history on the Narada isn't from  _this_ universe. It's from Nero's. That history you read, about Dad and me? That wasn't  _our_ destiny."

Winona blinked, setting aside the second ball. Her brain seemed to stutter, as if she was trying to find reasons to reject his statements.

She took a centering breath. "Even if true, George deserves to live. Even if it's not with me. And you and Sam will be better people, just having him in your lives. The Sarpeidon's devices don't affect time, or space, in the way the Red Matter did. This is focused and localized. It's your father that I'm going to save. That's all I need."

Jim could hear the growing determination and confidence in her voice as she talked. She continued her job of mixing small balls of chemicals, seeming to focus on them. He tried to move, his legs, his arms, but they were still weak and dead weight.

"Mom, you _can't_ do this," Jim said softly, feeling lost and panicky. He was losing the battle to change her mind. "You have  _no right_  to go back and change things! Whatever our lives are now, you really can't know that saving Dad would make our lives easier, or happier. That version of me won't be  _me_. And  _Sam_... George won't be  _George_. Do this and we could be worse off. I may  _never_  find my husband and Sam may  _never_  find Aurelan. Your grandkids may never be  _born_!"

"You were never meant to marry, Jim," Winona said distractedly.

She placed the eight small balls to the side, then went back to the storage cases the Tri-Fold team had brought down.

"You never did, in the real universe. And, frankly, you could have done better in this one."

_She's back to her original theory. That she's going to make this universe **that**  one. But she can't know that. No one can know that. I'm not sure that we can even see how time works. Not like the Trelane's people, or the others who have had billions of years to evolve beyond us. She can only be so sure because she wants to be. _

_How can I talk her out of this?_

His brain raced to find a new angle, or some way to slow her down. She had found what she was looking for in a small box and was pulling out some tiny wires and inserting them into the small, clay-like balls.

"Mom? Please. Listen to me. Dad wouldn't want you to go back and  _die_  like this. You can't stop the Narada from attacking the Kelvin. You won't be able to get Captain Robau to change course or disobey orders. They won't know who you are. There isn't anything you can do."

Winona stacked the eight Sarpeidon library disks into a small pile, then placed one on of the balls on top of it. She then went to the Atavachron and placed two on either side of the display. One she carefully placed on the active disk.

"I don't have to save  _everyone_. I  _don't care_  about Vulcan, or how many Klingon's the Narada took out, or all the ships the Federation lost. I just have to save your father and the rest will play out as it should."

She went to the Portal and placed the balls on either side of the doorway. Two were placed high and two low, on the exposed boards and wires that must have originally been hidden from sight behind a wall on either side of the plain opening. She stood back and looked at her work.

"I don't have to save  _worlds_ , Jim. I just have to make sure that the autopilot on the Kelvin is re-routed to the redundant system," She turned and looked at Jim with a smugness he'd rarely seen on her. Then she walked over to him and squatted down next to him. Her eyes were deep and fathomless, as if she was looking ahead to her success.

"Then, when the original wiring is destroyed, the autopilot will work, and your father  _will_ meet me on that shuttle. And get to meet his new son, as we are all taken to safety. And we'll be the people we were all meant to be."

The words stunned Jim.  _It could work? Maybe?_

Had she found the linchpin that had determined his father's death, or his survival?

He tried to think through everything he'd ever learned about the Kelvin's battle. There was something he felt he was missing. Something wrong with her idea, but it wasn't coming to him. There was much about the battle he knew and so much he'd never know. And he knew he was out of time.

She reached over and touched her fingertips to his face, the gesture wavering with the wetness in his eyes. He was failing. She could wipe out everything he knew. Everything he'd done and sacrificed for. She could wipe out what he and Bones had between them. And maybe Peter and Robby would never be born.

"You  _can't_  do this. You  _know_ you shouldn't. We are who we are  _now_ ," Jim protested. "And we're just as _important_ , and have as much right to  _our_ lives, as any _other_ version!"

He tried to move and grab her arm or throw himself at her. Anything to slow her down long enough that maybe someone would come looking for him and be able to do what he couldn't.

His movements were weak and ineffective. She pulled back with a frown, then stood.

"I'm  _helping_  you," she said with certainty. "I didn't even shoot you a second time. This device I found in Tri-Fold's inventory? It just stuns the first time but is fatal the second. That's why I didn't shoot you again. I could have killed your husband while we were on Sarpeidon. But I didn't. I saved his life so you both could start the universe over, together. You never married, but if you're meant to be lovers in the original timeline, then I wanted to be sure he was available to you. Just in case it mattered where he ceased to exist."

Winona took a breath, then leaned down to gather her bag to her again. It wasn't until then that Jim realized the bag was the duplicate of the regulation bags that were considered regular uniform on the Kelvin. She'd been carrying it all this time and he hadn't noticed.

"Since I don't know that time will play out at the same speed on both sides, I can't take the chance that someone will try to come after me. As soon as I go through, these devices will go off and destroy the artifacts. No one will be able to come through to get me or try to stop me. And all my important notes are long gone as well as all the backups. They'd find gibberish if they even had the time to look. Even Wyatt doesn't know the half of my work. And the disk I retrieved from the Sarpeidons? It may have saved me _decades_ of study. Now, it can finally be over."

She moved to the Atavachron.

"The explosive devices are powerful, but local. You shouldn't be harmed, or feel any pain, before the universe reboots. Again."

"Mom?  _Doctor Kirk!"_  Jim yelled for her attention, but she was too focused to pay attention.

She pushed several buttons on the Atavachron, checked the disk one more time and then pushed one last button.

The ground shook around them, and Jim was almost afraid the wreck around them would collapse this time. Winona just barely kept herself upright. Then it suddenly stopped, and the Portal was once again filled with the thick purple and blue blotches of light that led to a distant past.

From beyond it, Jim could hear people talking and the other sounds he knew so well. The sound of a Starship crew on their way to their stations and the hum of the engines.

Winona turned to him with a smile. "I'm your mother, Jim. I'm  _saving_ you."

"If you  _love me_ , you  _won't!"_  Jim said harshly, with one last try at stopping his world from disappearing. "If you  _ever_  loved me,  _you won't take this life away from me!_ "

Smiling at him as if he were a young child spouting gibberish, she turned, stepped through the Portal and disappeared.

After two heartbeats, still unable to move out of the way, Jim tried to curl up and protect his vitals as the small bombs went off.

 

 

***

 

 

Winona took a breath, the long-remembered scent of machinery and oil, all with a bit of disinfectant and electrical buzz, filled her nostrils. Crew in uniform passed by her, not noticing her sudden appearance. They all moved with strong strides, each needing to be someplace important.

Her memories were as clear as if she had been on the ship only yesterday. Like all her memories of George were as clear as when they'd happened.

She was  _home_.

Looking around, the functional and ugly tubing and floor grates told her where she was. The Kelvin had been a workhorse and very little had been dressed up or hidden. In emergencies, they'd need access to all sorts of wires, tubes and conduits and walls just got in the way.

So much had changed in twenty-nine years, when it came to ship design. How much more comfortable they were now.

 _Not **now** , _she reminded herself as she turned and followed the familiar passage to the auxiliary control center.  _Will be. Someday. Nothing of that universe is true anymore. I'm here to change everything that's important._

Everyone around her looked worried, concerned and in a hurry. They were close to the anomaly. She could feel the excited buzz they always had when coming upon something new. Something unexplained. The type of science she had lived for, on this ship. That and George.

She knew that her timing was going to be close. The Sarpeidons could only focus their machine to the nearest hour and anything closer than that was all guesswork. She couldn't arrive too soon and couldn't change things too early. The real crew could be alerted and stop her. Or have enough time to reroute everything back. They could get in her way.

Right now, her younger self was on the other side of the ship, having gone into premature labor. Second children could come quickly, but this was much too early. She hadn't been due for another couple of months. George had been there to see her to MedBay, his fear over the baby's premature birth written all over his face. But the doctors had assured him they could slow the labor and then stop it, giving the infant more time to develop.

But when the anomaly was discovered, he'd been called back to the bridge, with just enough time to settle into his position as First Officer when Captain Robau stepped onto the bridge.

Her route would take her nowhere near her younger self. And she had aged enough now that she knew no one would recognize her. New crew were taken on all the time and the Kelvin had just added new members to their crew less than a week ago. In an emergency, no one would question her. Not with Commander's stripes on her sleeve.

Suddenly the corridor lights went dim and the Red Alert lights came on. Voices vibrating over the loudspeaker called everyone to their duty stations.

The Narada had just arrived.

Winona hurried, as she'd been trained to, without indecision or panic. She knew where the auxiliary station was and moved like she had a right to be there.

Before she'd gotten very far the ship's siren's blared and she grabbed a guardrail, riding through the shaking as the first blow from the Narada's torpedoes hit, making the ship lurch. She continued on as fast as she could but had barely moved when several more of the Narada's torpedoes hit them at once. Through the sirens she could hear the stress of metal and the rubble of destruction as most of the Kelvin was put out of commission.

She moved then, ignoring the frantic actions of the crew around her. Avoiding areas, she knew were blocked or destroyed. She'd memorized that pathways through the ship. Had read the smuggled classified reports that had survived long enough to be jettisoned just before the Kelvin had rammed into the Narada.

She'd seen the reports they'd had on the incident, even though she'd never had the rank to see most of it. It was one reason Tri-Fold hadn't had to try too hard to recruit her. They gave her information that Starfleet wouldn't.

She'd never asked them how they got it.

There was a sudden lull in the attack, a call to prepare the evacuation ships.

Captain Robau was now talking to Nero. He would soon put George in charge and go to meet his death. She had only minutes now.

She finally got to Auxiliary control.

"Lieutenant!" Winona snapped as she entered the area. There was smoke coming from various panels and sparks threatened a fire in one corner. Two of the crew were dead on the floor and the young man left in charge was still at his station, trying to re-route what he could when the computer systems failed to do so. She remembers who he was. "Lieutenant Powers!"

"Uh," Powers looked up at her, clearly not knowing who she was, but not leaving his board. "Commander?"

"We're preparing to evacuate. You will now leave for your assigned shuttle."

"Sir? The order hasn't been given yet."

The ship lurched again. Captain Robau was dead and the ship was firing back. George was firing back.

"I'm giving the order! Now!"

The lieutenant nodded and left his post, jogging out into the chaos and death that was the hallways. She knew Powers wouldn't make it. If he had, it wouldn't have mattered if he remembered her.

She took half a second to orient herself at his station. The feeds through the ship were a mess, the auxiliary set up going full speed trying to reroute power and signals from the red, dead areas to the green, living ones. If they were lucky, those on the bridge wouldn't notice the switchovers. Some would never have any control over their boards after the first hits.

Typing quickly, she pulled up the schematics for the autopilot. The computer was getting sluggish, having to find alternate ways to get around dead zones to pull up information as the fight wore on. She had just managed to pull up the correct screen when the ship lurched again. Her heart almost stalled when she heard George's voice echo throughout the ship.

"All Decks! This is the Captain speaking! Evacuate the ship immediately! Now!"

She could hear the scramble outside the room, as people left their stations, some working together to drag living crewman with them. There were explosions close by and she hung on to the side of the station to keep her feet.

Her younger self was on her way to the safety of shuttle 37. The clock in her head ticking off the action as it happened. She had it down to the second and knew exactly how long she had to save George.

She typed quickly, rerouting the auto-pilot from its main route to the auxiliary route before the console stopped working.

_There! It's done! George can leave the bridge now!_

She stood, watching the screens around her flash from green to red as systems went out. Some screens went blank.

She felt confused.

_I've saved him. He can leave on the shuttle now. Was Jim right, and I won't be the one to start over?_

The thought scared her, but she watched as both the main and auxiliary routing of the auto-pilot glowed a bright green.

_I've save him. It's worth it. No matter what happens to me, it's worth it._

The ship lurched and the gravity fluctuated. With horror, Winona saw the auxiliary routing indicators turn red, while the main routing stayed green.

"No! No! It  _can't_  go dead!" she screamed out loud, not even realizing it.

She frantically worked the controls, trying to route the auto-pilot back to its regular routing. The one that worked.

**_Can't be! Can't be! Can'tbecan'tbecan'tbecantbecantbe..._ **

She froze, shocked with disbelief, as the whole system went down and she was left in a room with only a few blinking lights. The ship was suddenly quiet, and she realized the Narada had stopped shooting at the Kelvin, it being so close to the Narada that it would be hitting parts of itself if it missed.

It was shooting at the shuttles. Jim had just been born.

_George! He's still here!_

Frantic, tears running down her face, she broke into a run, running into debris in the dark until the emergency lights flickered on  in the corridors, showing her a vision of hell. The smoke and the rank smell of fire and spilled oils and fluids filled her nostrils as she ran for the lift. But even before she could get to it she saw the shaft was warped and powerless.

She bolted for the emergency stairs, the clock in her head ticking down the seconds to impact.

She managed one flight before she stopped, realizing that she would never make the bridge in the next five seconds before impact.

 _I've failed. I've failed him._ She thought numbly, frozen in place.

She remembered the auxiliary screen in front of her. And then knew, without a doubt, that if she had left it alone the auto-pilot would have worked long enough for George to have been on that shuttle. With her. With their son. On their way home.

He'd died because _she_ , herself, had switched the auto-pilot to the system fated to be destroyed. Something none of the records had survived to show.

_It would have **worked**. If I hadn't  **touched it**...George!_

When the Kelvin hit the Narada, she could only think of George.

It came as a mercy.

 

***

 

Jim Kirk sat forward on the biobed, arms curled around his knees, feeling tired and numb as the silence between him, Spock and Bones lingered. He'd just finished relating everything he knew to Spock about what had happened only a few hours ago.

Bones, who had finally regained consciousness, was in the biobed next to him in the private room they shared in the MedBay. Spock sat in a chair at their feet, between the two beds. Nothing was recorded about this meeting.

Spock had come back into the wreck to find him after Sulu had taken Bones and the rest of the crew back to the _Enterprise_. He had pulled Jim and Wyatt out of the burning hold before either of them had been badly hurt. Then Sulu had turned around to pick Jim, Spock and Wyatt up to bring them home.

Javelar, from the _Sitta Caesia_ , had demanded Wyatt back and a full story of what had happened. Spock had obliged by sending Wyatt back to the Tri-Fold ship. They would have to wait for the report. Jim suspected Acting Captain Spock would find many angry, demanding messages from both Starfleet and Tri-Fold. Spock didn't seem worried about it.

Jim was suffering some small shrapnel wounds, smoke inhalation and weakness. Bones was also recovering from that weakness, as well as whatever it was from Bones's medkit his mother had dosed him with. Bones had told him, but Jim didn't remember now. Whatever weapon Winona had used against them both would wear off in a few more hours. Winona had taken the weapon with her and there was no way to find out what it was, or where it came from.

Only Tri-Fold would know what was missing from their inventory and Jim had the feeling they'd be less than co-operative now. Jim had a feeling their whole organization would have to hold inventories. Almost 18 years of employment with them meant that Winona had had her fingers in a large number of their pies.

Bones, who'd been lying on his side on his biobed while Jim told his story, tried to sit up. Jim could see how weak he was. "Jim, it  _wasn't_ your fault--"

"Lie  _down_ , Bones," Jim ordered tiredly. "You'll get M'Benga in here with your readings. I don't think you want Spock picking you up and tucking you in if you fall out of bed. Because I'm in no shape to do it. And I  _know_  it wasn't my fault. I had no idea what she was going to do. I don't think even Tri-Fold knew what she was planning. They certainly wouldn't have let her destroy their treasures."

Jim sighed, propping his head on his knees. "But you're right. I  _know_  it's not my fault, but I still--"

"Feel like you could have stopped her," Bones said, sighing and lying back down.

"Such a belief would be a waste of time," Spock said, looking unsettled, for a Vulcan. "Especially since there is no basis for such a feeling. There was no reason for you to foresee your mother taking such a drastic step."

"By step, you mean wiping out my whole existence?" Jim asked sadly. "To get the child she really wanted?"

"Jim. This  _wasn't_  about you," Bones insisted calmly. "You're just someone she could use to vent her frustrations on. She could never really believe her chance would come, so she took it out on you and Sam. This was really about her obsession with your father. And the fact she was a quantum physicist must have kept her primed to work on the idea. Her obsession fed off of her natural interest and skills. If she'd been a... I don't know... doctor, or engineer, or skilled chef, she might have mourned for a while, gotten help and been able to move on."

"And I believe," Spock added, "That her employment with Tri-Fold only worsened her obsession. They were, apparently, willing to go to great lengths to get the Sarpeidon items. They even allowed her to run her experiments on the  _Sitta Caesia_."

"They fed her addiction," Bones agreed.

"I know it sounds logical," Jim said with a sigh as he relaxed and lay back down. "But it doesn't change the way I feel. Spock?"

"Yes?"

"I'm here. You're here. I remember all my past. Bones and I are still together. And my father still died on the Kelvin. Do you think she got back to the time she was aiming for? Is she living in the past, still getting ready to save him? Or did she just miss the mark?"

Jim studied the ceiling. "She said that time on both sides of the Portal could run differently. Could everything we have now disappear someday, if she's successful? One minute we're here, the other we're back to square one, with a new deck of cards?"

Spock was silent for a moment. "I do not know, Jim. A guess would be irresponsible, when it comes to your mother's fate."

"If it does all reboot, we'd never know it," Bones said softly.

Jim didn't say anything.

After a moment, the room comm beeped.

"Bridge to Mister Spock."

"Spock here, Lieutenant Uhura."

"We have another message from Mr. Amajaro Javelar, from the  _Sitta Caesia_ , demanding a report on what transpired on Xendow 1. And another message from Starfleet has just came in."

"That one's probably for me," Jim said with a sigh, starting to sit again.

" _I_  shall let you know," Spock said sternly, raising an eyebrow at Jim. " _If_  I feel it appropriate."

"You tell 'em, Spock," Bones said with a satisfied nod. "He's not cleared for duty yet."

"God, I hate it when you two team up on me," Jim said, lying back down. It did feel good to relax and let Spock take all the frantic flack he knew would be coming in from Tri-Fold and Starfleet. "How can I just relax and be the Captain when you two are planning mutiny all the time?"

"Watch your back," Bones said from his bed. Jim could hear the smile in it. "'Cause we'll  _always_  be there. Take that any way you want to."

Jim smiled at the thought.

"Captain. Doctor," Spock said with a nod as he left the room, dimming the light as he did so, in a clear order to get some rest.

Neither Jim nor Bones said anything for a while. The lights in the room were dim and Jim knew they should be sleeping. If things went like he thought, they would be orbiting Xendow I for a while yet.

Under Starfleet's orders, until Tri-Fold had finished scavenging the area for  _anything_  they could save from their time travel project. Protecting Tri-Fold from those newly arrived ships who were curious and possibly dangerous.

Jim had a feeling he'd find out how furious Tri-Fold must be to have lost such a huge discovery and how desperate they'd be for even the scraps. And how desperate to place the blame. Jim was sure much of it would come his way, if for no other reason than to keep him quiet about the project, and to pressure Starfleet into keeping the whole thing classified.

But now that they knew time travel was possible, Tri-Fold would try again. That genie was well and truly free, even the tools were hard to come by.

And, somehow, in some way, Starfleet wasn't far behind Tri-Fold. Someone was making deals and agreements behind the scenes. Jim just knew it. Starfleet ships weren't ordered to act as bodyguards for just anyone.

"Jim?"

"Humm?"

"You okay?"

Jim sighed. "No. Not really."

"Want company? We could shake M'Benga up by trying to fit into one biobed and making the readings go crazy."

Jim smiled, just a little.

"Nah. Wouldn't be nice. Then he'd have to try to put us in separate rooms. I'm too weak to put up much of a fight. Besides, we'd both probably end up rolling off and onto the floor. This floor's really hard."

Jim rolled over onto his side to face him. Bones was already on his side, watching Jim carefully in the dim light.

"I could  _never_  forget you, you know," Bones said softly. Deadly serious. "Not _really_. My brain might forget, but my soul wouldn't."

Jim did smile then. Tiredly and a little lopsided, but he managed for Bones's sake.

"Sweet talker, my guy. Same here."

"And I'm _so_  sorry. About your mother. Maybe she's actually happy, wherever she is."

"I hope so," Jim said. Then he frowned as a thought hit him. "God.  _Sam_. What do we tell Sam?"

"We'll think of something," Bones said around a yawn.

Jim reached out over the space between them, needing to touch. Bones reached out too. They were just barely able to touch fingertips for a moment, with a little stretching.

Jim pulled his arm back and settled down in the bed. "Good night, Old Man."

"Good night, Kid."

It took a while, now worried about his brother, but Jim finally drifted off.

 

 

***

 

 

Kinder Wyatt lay in the biobed in her private room in the  _Sitta Caesia's_ own MedBay. Amajaro Javelar had been quietly, but relentlessly, grilling her for several hours and had just left. She was utterly exhausted. She'd told them everything she could about what had happened at the test site.

Although remarkably even-tempered, even by Herkaran standards, Wyatt could tell that Javelar was shocked and livid. Doctor Kirk's perceived betrayal of the company that had honed, indulged and nurtured her talents for almost 18 Terran years was a huge blow to this whole division. Maybe even the company itself.

Wyatt suspected that the failure, on  _his_  watch, to control Doctor Kirk was the least of it. It would be the loss of perhaps billions of credits of artifacts collected over the years and the failure to fully realize the secret company dream of having, and controlling, time travel that would be his true downfall.

It was a big universe. Sometimes, people disappeared from Tri-Fold and were never heard of again. Javelar could be one of them.

And she had heard enough to tell Javelar a lot. Once shot by Winona, she had laid there twitching, helpless to move, but she could still hear.

And remembering what she'd heard, word for word, was one of her more useful talents. Although she also worked hard to keep her talents under wraps. Her audible memory was second only to her photographic memory. It made her job all that much easier when she didn't need a piece of technical equipment to remember anything she wanted to remember.

Javelar had not seemed mollified by her retelling of their 'accidental' trip to Sarpeidon's past. Nor by Wyatt's recounting of Winona's admission as to what she'd been planning for all these years. The Hekaran couldn't have been surprised. Although Wyatt had only been Doctor Kirk's assistant for eight years now, it had become apparent to her that Tri-Fold was not only feeding Kirk's obsession but enforcing it.

While Kinder had been born with her memory skills, Winona had not. As time grew on, the woman had seemed unable to forget anything about her husband. Even almost thirty years after his death.

Sometimes, Wyatt would see her drift off, taken by a memory so strong it pulled Kirk out of reality. And Wyatt saw how Kirk's therapy sessions increased, as did the medications for her migraines.

_They **wanted**  her obsessed. All her attention geared toward her time travel project, until there really was nothing else in her life to distract her. Such a brilliant mind, focused laser sharp on their goal. And if they burned her out? Why, what great strides in science she could make before she was no longer of any use!_

_They never cared what it did to her, or her family. Other than insisting she keep at least minimal contact with her children. Both brilliant, hard-working men in their own right. Might be handy contacts someday. Never hurts to have a Federation Captain on call._

_If I could finally manage to get a sample of those shots she was taking, I'm sure some doctor somewhere could figure out what they had her on. But now that she's gone, I'm sure all her medical records are as well. Time travel research isn't the only research they do. Not by far._

_So, how can they be surprised when someone so brilliant, so focused, actually **did**  what they wanted and found a way to get back to save her husband? They should have seen  **that** coming. They knew her better than I ever did._

_I'm just surprised it didn't work._

_What went wrong?_

Wyatt sighed and flicked off the room lights, picking up her personal PADD to try to relax. She was too achy to try to sleep. She needed her music to help her settle down. She never remembered music as well as the other things around her. Music was constantly new and surprising, unlike watching a vid or reading. It was what kept her sane. And she had a massive collection, from all the Federation civilizations and species whose style and flow she even remotely enjoyed.

And she always played her songs randomly. She liked being surprised and she'd never have time to listen to even a fraction of her collection if she repeated any one song too often anyway. She didn't want to memorize them.

Alone in the room, she didn't have to keep the sound down, so left the volume up as she opened her playlist. She glanced at the random selections for the evening. In Standard, the translated titles lined up in a neat column down her screen, ready to play.

_A Journey to Prepare_

_Missing You_

_Love on the Road_

_The Disappearance_

_Going Home_

She blinked and read the list again. Trying to keep calm while the biobed kept such a close eye on her.

_Finally! My recall has come! Eight years undercover and Starfleet is **finally**  coming to take me  **home**._

She closed her eyes, started the first song and lay back to relax. Soon, Starfleet would come for her and she would disappear. Tri-Fold will have lost two of their best scientists and be set further back in their search for time travel.

Starfleet would get eight years of knowledge that Tri-Fold had collected on the subject that Wyatt had had access to. And a peek into some of the personal notes Doctor Kirk had made, but then destroyed. The ones Wyatt had managed to see over her shoulder, at odd times through the years.

They would be recreated, in Wyatt's hand and stored in Section 31's files, as well as information on Tri-Fold's other research.

Now, if Starfleet only had the time travel equipment as well as the notes, they'd have the upper hand.

 

***

Three Weeks Later

***

 

 

Jim Kirk stood next to his husband and brother in front of the memorial 'Bonding' trees he and Sam had just planted. Just as it had been when Jim and Bones had left Deneva almost a month ago, it was a beautiful day, and the small group stood in the dappled light of the larger trees around them and listened to the official try to comfort them with his words.

"And so, we commemorate the memory of Winona Marie Williams Kirk," the solemnly dressed Denevan official said in closing. "Wife, mother, Starfleet officer and research scientist. She will be greatly missed and fondly remembered. May we all be blessed by those lives we have touched, those we love, and those who love us in return. May she and her husband have peace in their rest."

The official nodded at them all, then came to shake their hands. He didn't have many to shake, as it was a small ceremony. Jim and Bones, Sam and Aurelan, Peter, David and Aurelan's parents, Victor and Armana, were the only ones to attend. There had been no one else who knew her to ask. They had spent the morning together, Jim and Bones staying with Sam and Aurelan, and had come to the service together.

To Jim, all if it had an unreal quality.

"I'm sorry for your loss." The kindly, older man held out his hand for Jim to shake as his turn came around. "I'm sure your mother's memory will be a blessing to you all through your years."

"I'm sure so," Jim said with a smile just as fake as his words. He shook the man's hand. The official then moved on to Bones and Jim's mind went back to the plants in front of him.

_I wish it were so. I wish I had good memories of her. Is that why I can't seem to mourn?_

_I saw her and spoke to her so rarely. Her not being around, or in touch, just seems like more of the same._

_And how do I know she's really gone? Could she pop up at any time? She'd be in her early eighties by now, if in hiding._

_Maybe... she'd be a different person. Happier?_

It was hard to think of her as dead. Not like Sam, who Aurelan said had ranted and cried when informed by Tri-Fold of his mother's death. Tri-Fold had sent a representative to their home on Deneva, as her oldest child and next-of-kin contact. Aurelan said the woman had been nice, and respectful, but had no answers for Sam's questions.

The Tri-Fold representative had reported Winona Kirk as having died in an experiment gone wrong, with no body recovered, and no possibility of one. Their visit had included the delivery of a copy of all Winona's employment paperwork showing that she relieved Tri-Fold of all responsibilities as to her safety and welfare, and that all her work product belonged to the company. The woman had also delivered a box with Winona's personal belongings, and a credit chip with all of Winona's savings, her death benefits included.

Aurelan had signed off on the package, the credit chip, and took the official report while Sam had sat, stunned.

All nice, clean and impersonal. All done days before Jim had had a chance to call his brother and break the news himself.

Jim had felt horrible about the way it had been handled. And he couldn't even tell Sam the truth. He'd had to take Sam's panicked call without the ability to explain that he not only knew, but that he'd been there. Sam had assumed that Jim had been notified by subspace, and Jim let him believe it.

_Sam tries so hard to be there for both of us and trusts me. If he knew what secrets I have, he'd probably hate me. But the less he knows, the safer he is. The safer they all are. I'd rather take the chance that he finds out some day and pushes me away than to have him lose his family because they knew too much._

_And the reasons she left... Let him keep whatever good memories he has. Let him believe that there was always hope we could win her over. That there really was enough of the loving mother left in her to have made all the difference, if we'd only had time on our side._

Jim himself still felt... odd. Numb and closed off about her loss. As if it all had never really happened. He did feel guilt over why she'd felt the need to take such actions. Although he knew he shouldn't feel any guilt, it still ran through his mind.

_If I'd been less sickly as a child. Been easier to raise. Less head-strong. Less rebellious. Been someone who she could have been proud of. Hadn't left home and wandered like a nomad for so long. Had gone to Starfleet earlier... Bones tried to talk me out of feeling that those were valid reasons for her to want to start again. I **know**  what he told me is true, it wasn't my fault. Nothing I did would have mattered. Maybe in time I'll finally  **believe**  it._

Jim stood staring at the 'Bonding' tree, which was actually more like two bare sticks, each with a seperate root ball.

That wasn't its real name, as that was Albigonian and unpronounceable for humans. But it could live beautifully on Deneva without endangering other species and had become a favorite for the Memorial Gardens.

It really consisted of two trees, a 'male' and 'female', planted side by side. As they grew, they'd be attracted to each other and grow together in a six-foot spiral over twenty-two years. The two would fuse and leaf out every year, together. At the end of their twenty-two-year cycle they would bloom in a huge bouquet of multi-colored and multi-shaped flowers that dripped to the ground on green tendrils, looking like a land-bound nebula. Then they would drop seeds and, still together, die. The Albigonian had used them as staffs of honor for hundreds of years, signaling love, family and unity.

Here, in the Memory Gardens, the cremated remains of the family members would be buried under the roots. Then when the trees died, family would reclaim the dead trunks and keep the staffs in the family homes. Then the space would be ready for a new memorial.

But there had been no bodies to cremate and bury here. Not for their father or their mother. But they did have their mother's personal effects from her life at Tri-Fold. The items had seemed impersonal when Sam and Jim had opened the box that had been given to Sam. Clothing, disks and her PADD were some of the more interesting items. The papers were all personal, the PADD wiped, and the clothing her non-work attire. All, Jim was sure had been thoroughly vetted for anything Tri-Fold considered classified.

The startling exception was a notepad with hundreds of her sketches. Sketches of George and his life. Drawings not taken from any vids or old-style photos Jim had ever seen. Images clearly from her own memories. She had drawn his father in all sorts of settings and poses, from when he and Winona were younger, and their days at the Academy. Jim's favorite was of his father, sitting on a floor by one of his motorcycle rebuilds. The pieces of the bike strewn around him and a huge smile on his face.

To Jim, it had been a sign of her obsession and how fixated she was on his memory. All the drawings were dated and within the last seven or eight years. Even after all these years her memory of him seemed to be picture perfect. Sam, seeing it as the love his mother still had for their father, had broken down and cried.

Jim didn't discuss his feelings with Sam. Sam's view of her was the better one.

Between the two of them, he and Sam made the decision to bury one small drawing from Winona's notebook to stand in her stead. A small, unfinished piece of George and herself was chosen. That bit of real paper they buried under one tree. Jim had donated the list he had saved in his father's handwriting for burial under the other.

Bones and Sam both worried about Jim's losing that small bit of George that he'd had saved for so many years. But to Jim, it felt right. If they could only be together symbolically, then those are the symbols that worked.

Jim was jolted out of his musings when Bones gently placed a hand on his back and leaned in.

"We have company," Bones said softly.

Jim looked up at him, then in the direction of Bones's nod. The rest of the group was walking slowly down the green, grassy row between the plantings, toward the shuttles. Off to the side, nodding at the passing group and speaking quiet greetings, was Ambassador Spock.

Jim was touched to see the elderly Vulcan. It meant a lot to him to know just how much Ambassador Spock thought of him, to make such an effort. He and Bones walked in his direction.

"I am truly sorry for your loss," Ambassador Spock said, bowing slightly as Jim and Bones approached. "I am afraid I have missed the memorial. For that I am sorry as well."

"Do not be sorry for that which you cannot help," Jim said formally, but with a smile. "I'm honored that you are here and thought to make the trip."

Ambassador Spock nodded again. "Would you have time to walk with me, Jim Kirk?"

"I'm sure the others will understand," Jim replied. "We're not due to leave for a bit."

_And for this, we can catch a later shuttle out if we have to. How many more opportunities will he and I have to talk?_

"I'll meet you at the shuttle," Bones said to Jim, moving away.

"You are most welcome to attend, Doctor," Ambassador Spock said. "I do not mean to separate you from your spouse."

Bones looked at both of them and smiled. "You're not. Whatever you need to talk about is between you two. Jim knows where I am if he needs me."

Bones turned and walked away. Ambassador Spock turned the other direction and Jim followed. Jim noticed the Ambassador touch a small, decorative pin on one side of his robes.

"We may talk freely," the Ambassador said. "No one may listen in."

Jim looked at him in surprise. 

_He's taking precautions? This must be classified, or important. Is this something about John?_

"It's  _always_  a pleasure, Ambassador Spock," Jim said with concern. "But I gather you didn't come all this way just to attend my mother's memorial service."

"Actually, it is about your mother that I have come," Ambassador Spock said, glancing at him. That told Jim that Ambassador Spock was reluctant to broach the subject, but it was important that he do so.

" _Please_ , feel free," Jim said. "I'm not sure anything you say about her could shock me anymore."

"As you are aware, while helping New Vulcan become our new home, I still have connections to Starfleet," Ambassador Spock began. "Connections that are powerful and deeply entrenched in the inevitable politics that is generated when you put various intelligent beings together. Politics and espionage," Ambassador Spock said with the hint of a sigh, "are things our cultures may never outgrow. So, I... hear things from those connections and at times am left with the choice of passing such information on or keeping it to myself."

Jim stopped and looked at the Ambassador. "You know something about my mother. Something that Starfleet knows, but that I may not."

"Affirmative." Ambassador Spock shook his head. "I am not certain that relaying the information to you is either kind, or wise. But I believe that with both you and my own Jim Kirk, having such knowledge may lead, eventually, to a more peaceful acceptance of that which cannot be changed."

"Well, this Jim Kirk agrees with that," Jim said solemnly. He turned to walk again, hands behind his back. "The old saying is that the truth can set you free. It doesn't say you have to like it."

"Indeed. I'm afraid I have come to tell you that your mother is truly deceased," Ambassador Spock said grimly. "You need not look for her to come out of hiding, or to return in any other fashion, through time. She has passed on."

Jim stopped and closed his eyes. Something in him settled a bit. "You knew I'd always doubt."

"Yes. While there could be even the remotest of chances she might have survived her trip, you would look for her. Actively or passively."

"Do you  _know_  what happened to her? For sure?"

"It is mostly conjecture on her last hour or so. But as to her ultimate end, yes."

Jim started walking again, gritting his teeth. Ambassador Spock followed. "Tell me."

Ambassador Spock took a moment, and Jim could tell he was uncomfortable with what he had to say.

"Just as the Kelvin crashed into the Narada," Ambassador Spock began, "the ship's Black Box was deployed as it was designed to do. It took some time to find it in the debris both the Kelvin and Narada left behind. Over the years, you can imagine what scrutiny the collected files and recordings from all over the ship were given by Starfleet Security. Some of that information has never been widely distributed."

"Like my father's last communication with my mother, over their personal comms," Jim said with a sigh. "If you're referring to my father's last moments... I've seen the vids from both the shuttle and the bridge. I heard his last words to her."

Starfleet had never meant him, or anyone not in need to know, to see it. It was considered classified and not something that Starfleet Academy released to those in their classes for study. But Pike had taken pity on Jim once he'd run into the rumor that the recordings existed. Jim had demanded that Pike confirm to him whether the recordings were real or not. Bucking the protocols, Pike had let him see them. It had upset him greatly, and Pike had helped talk him through it during one long night over two very potent scotches at Pike's house.

In the long run, it had become a good memory for him to carry. George had loved him and wanted him. Jim had heard it for himself and didn't need to rely on anyone else's assurances on that. Jim  _knew_.

Ambassador Spock nodded. "Yes. What you have not seen are the recordings that Starfleet Security has kept under tight control for twenty-nine years. Recordings of the actions of a crewmember on the Kelvin. One who appeared within the last hour before its destruction and could not be identified."

"My mother?" Jim asked in shock. 

_Do they really have recordings of her? What did she do? What went wrong?_

"As she has just recently been identified," Ambassador Spock said. "Of all the possible scenarios, it never occurred to Starfleet Security to check if that unknown crewman was the same crewman who was in shuttle 37 giving birth. Childbirth is a very good alibi, on its face."

"What happened?"

"There is not much to the recordings. Just a few minutes of her in the Kelvin's hallways during the battle. Her presence has been a great concern to those in Starfleet Security, as she matched nothing in their records. There was some suspicion at first that she was a saboteur, planted on the Kelvin for nefarious purposes. Especially since she was recorded going into the Auxiliary room before the system shut down. But there are no recordings of what went on inside. Starfleet has... guesses. Hypothesis. But no facts or proof."

Jim walked quietly for a moment. "She died in that room."

"No," Ambassador Spock said gently. "She left the Auxiliary room and was on her way to the bridge when the Kelvin was destroyed. She could not have made it there, even if she'd had the time. The bridge was already unreachable. Nor could your father have escaped. Fate had placed them there and that is where they passed."

Jim took a few moments to let that sink in.

"She tried. She died trying. And she died with him, on the ship."

"Yes," Ambassador Spock said shortly. "But if she had succeeded, she would have doomed the three of you."

"What do you mean?" Jim asked in surprise.

"You forget," Ambassador Spock said kindly. "The targeting systems of the Kelvin were out as well. There was no way to get them back on-line. As your mother's shuttle escaped, your father was the reason those in it survived. It was among the last shuttles to leave and was targeted by the Narada's torpedoes. If Acting Captain George Kirk had been on that shuttle, with you and your mother, there would have been no one on the Kelvin to shoot those torpedoes and stop them. The records on the computer of shuttle 37 make that quite clear. There was no way for it to have evaded the torpedoes, and it would have been lost with all its passengers."

Jim stopped and closed his eyes, his hands making angry fists.

_I **knew** that! I  **knew**! Why didn't I  **remember**  that?  **That's**  what I needed to tell her. If she'd realized that her plan  **couldn't**  have worked, and we'd all be dead anyway, she might have stayed on this side of time. _

_Oh, God. Why didn't I **remember**?_

"Do  _not_ blame yourself," Ambassador Spock said gently as he stepped close to Jim. "There were many things going on at the time she stepped through the portal. You were 'thinking on your feet' as it is said and responded to the situation in the best way you could. And there is something else you should know. Admiral Boyce and I agree that at that point, nothing you could have said or done would have changed your mother's mind. We greatly suspect that Doctor Kirk had been both _mentally_ and _medically_ manipulated by Tri-Fold for quite some time."

Jim opened his eyes and looked sharply at the Ambassador. "You mean... drugged?"

"There is no proof. Only conjecture," Ambassador Spock admitted. "But there is suspicion that she had been manipulated, in various ways, since her recruitment to Tri-Fold. In small, subtle ways at first, then later by more aggressive means. And that, as well, will most probably go unproven. As so many other things about this incident will. In short, Jim, I believe that your mother's actions, and her responses, were so entrenched in her thought patterns and point of view that she was unstoppable by anything but the most violent means. Physically, you might have stopped her if you'd had the chance. But mentally, she was totally committed to her actions."

"I don't know," Jim said with a sigh. "What you're saying makes sense. But... I still wish I had given it a try. Is there anything we can do, to make Tri-Fold accountable? Make sure they're not manipulating any of their other scientists? Does Starfleet even care?"

"All good questions, Jim. But I can only answer the last. Some in Starfleet do care. Greatly. But there are many battles, and they must choose which to fight, and when, with care."

 _He's right,_ Jim thought tiredly.  _We're all stretched so thin as it is. Going up against some of these huge corporations... it would be as draining and time-consuming as fighting the Klingons. And maybe, even as deadly. But there has to be some way. They shouldn't be allowed to treat their employees like experiments. Or ruin so many lives that way._

They came to the end of the row and both turned around to head back to the group waiting for Jim.

"Thank you, for coming to tell me," Jim said quietly.

"Will you inform your brother of the truth?"

"No," Jim said firmly. "Let him think of her death as a tragic accident. He's already trying to find peace with that. I think he can."

Ambassador Spock nodded. "I think that wise."

They walked quietly and were almost halfway back when Jim spoke up again.

"My mother countered an argument I made, when I was trying to talk her out of going. I admit that I believe that the nuances of time travel are beyond us mere mortals. But somehow, she knew where you were from, and believed that you weren't from  _this_  universe's future. That's why you're still here."

"And her reasons for such a belief?"

"Not hard to follow, once I started wondering about it myself," Jim admitted. " _We_  now know that Romulus' sun will nova and on what date. So, now they will not be taken by surprise. And we, or the Romulans, will save everyone in one way or another well before it happens. Nero will have no reason, and probably no way, to come back to the past with revenge in mind."

Jim stopped and looked at Ambassador Spock.

"Which means that Vulcan will not be destroyed by Nero. But when no ones comes back to warn us of Romulus' impending explosion, we will be surprised when it happens as history replays the timeline. And that future Ambassador Spock will try to stop it, but fail, and he and that Nero will fall back in time once again. We'd be in a time loop, half of the loop with Nero returning, and the other half with someone preventing that from happening. Vulcan is destroyed on one side of the loop, and left to survive in the other. A paradox, and the reason that this version of you would cease to exist every time we  _know_  about Nero and his past so are able to stop it. Yet,  _here_  you are, with your memories complete. So, no time loop."

Ambassador Spock nodded. Jim could see he was enjoying the conversation. "A very interesting intellectual puzzle."

"But it really isn't a puzzle to you, is it?" Jim asked. He took a big breath before asking the important question. He watched Ambassador Spock closely. "This isn't  _your_  universe, is it? You didn't come  _back_  in time, but slid into another universe entirely. Mine."

Ambassador Spock almost smiled.

"In either universe, you are a very intelligent and resourceful individual, Jim Kirk. You are correct. Nero had nothing in this universe, or time frame, he knew to compare with the one he left. He did not see that there were differences. I did, early on."

Jim frowned. "But you led me to believe that you were from _my_ future."

"Earth, in this universe, was going to be destroyed, Jim," Ambassador Spock said with a slight shrug. "There was no time to spare. Vulcan had already been lost because of my failures. Whether my original universe or not, I could not stand by and let that happen in this one. Reuniting you with my counterpart, and getting you installed as the Captain of the _Enterprise_ , was the best solution I had to hand. While I regret the deception, I cannot argue with the results."

Jim shook his head, a thousand questions running through it. "But, if this is a parallel universe to yours, doesn't that mean you could go back to your own?"

"I could seek to do so, but I do not think it worth the effort," Ambassador Spock said, a bit sadly. "My time there is over. There is no one left to go back to, and I am sure it has successfully moved on without me. I am content to know that everything that my _Enterprise_ did, every sacrifice I and my crewmates made, and all the good that was done on our journeys, survives. The meaning and purpose to the whole of my life has not been erased or changed."

Spock frowned gravely.

"And I am needed here and wish to make some reimbursement for the changes I have unwittingly made to yours. I am still responsible for what my failure has caused you, and it is still true that whatever your futures would have been without Nero's arrival, they are now different. For better or worse."

Jim thought about it for a moment. "My mother kept telling me how much better I would be when this universe was 'fixed'. What was she comparing it to? Who was she comparing me and my future too? How would she know?"

"You will probably run across this information on your own, in time," Ambassador Spock admitted. "It is for sale on the black market after all. Nero came back with history tapes from our universe, our time, in which the biography of James T. Kirk was included. While most of the Narada's computers were too well guarded for the Klingon's to enter, they were able to retrieve bits and pieces of those less valued files. The History Tapes of the Federation were probably bought on the black market by Tri-Fold, and given to your mother as an incentive to develop time travel. In my universe, your father lived to a respectable age for a human. If your mother had read that, she might also have read the bare-bones version of my Jim Kirk's biography. And then compared that information to you."

Jim sighed. "She wanted me to become someone I could never be. I would have never have been the man in that biography, no matter how far back she went. Whether she saved my father or not. My destiny has always been my own, not this other Jim Kirk's."

"That is true," Ambassador Spock agreed. "But I do not think she would have ever believed the truth, no matter how it was presented."

"Am I very different?" Jim asked, curiosity niggling at him. "From the Jim Kirk of your universe?"

Ambassador Spock almost looked amused.

"In uncountable ways, you differ. In uncountable ways, you are very similar. I have stopped comparing the two of you long ago. I would get very little else done trying to solve that puzzle. You are each unique, and yet in a way a version of each other in the ways that matter. Although I do have to say," Ambassador Spock looked at Jim, his eyebrow raised, "you do not resemble each other in the least. I believe that has been a large factor in my being able to... let the past go and move on. You do not look like my Jim Kirk. Just as none of the others really resemble their counterparts."

"I don't? We don't?" Jim asked with surprise. "I just assumed we'd all be... identical, across all the universes. You  _did_ know who I was when you saw me."

"The history tapes the Romulans carried had no pictures. Just basic text information. Probably just a few paragraphs about Jim Kirk at most."

Ambassador Spock shook his head.

"I recognized you as this universe's version of Jim Kirk from your Academy picture, which Nero's people pulled up from a hacked copy of some Starfleet records they'd stolen from the Klingons. Once they realized that the Jim Kirk they were expecting to be here was still at the Academy, they ceased worrying about him interfering. But they found out about my counterpart's impending assignment to the _Enterprise_ under Captain Pike, as his Science Officer. So, when the _Enterprise_   _did_  show up to the battle, they assumed that my counter would be on board and must, indeed, be my younger self. Just as you assumed that my counterpart and I were physically the same person."

"Oh, well, I guess that I just wasn't paying attention," Jim said, a bit embarrassed that he'd missed for himself that the two Ambassador Spocks weren't actually identical, even if separated by age.

"I am  _old_ , Jim, and the young are not used to looking at the elderly and imagining what their younger versions would have been like," Ambassador Spock said with a touch of amusement. "Even my counterpart may not suspect. One day, I hope to have that conversation with him. As for Nero, at the time I tried to convince him that we had, in fact,  _not_  gone back into our time. And that his revenge would be met out against the wrong people. The wrong planet. But he did not believe me any more than your mother believed any of your arguments. I had to resort to other methods and means to save what life I could."

They walked a bit more, each with his thoughts. "So, I look nothing like him, huh?"

"Someday, I will show you a picture I have saved for many years, of myself and my crewmates. It was in the personal belongings I have always traveled with. You look more like a distant cousin of his than the man himself. Everyone is a bit different in appearance, voice and mannerisms. Some show greater differences than others."

"But, why  _wouldn't_  we all be identical?"

Ambassador Spock turned to walk again.

"I believe it has to do with DNA drift, over time. Once separated, similar events may happen, but at different times, for different reasons. A child conceived on one day, at a certain hour, in one universe may inherit different DNA than his counterpart, who was conceived at a different time, or place, in theirs. Thus, be physically different."

"One conceived at, say, midnight on one day, and the other the next night, at ten pm. But each inheriting the same name, the same position in the family." Jim chewed his lip thoughtfully. "Heck, for humans, even an hour's difference could mean one sperm could win over the other. A DNA crap shoot. Over time, and generations, all those differences would add up."

"As I suspect is the case between my universe and this one."

"And some people born in one universe, but not in another."

"Yes. And the more time passes after the two split, or as some say, 'branch out', the more pronounced the differences would be."

The whole idea reminded Jim of how much they didn't know about existence in general. Even the number of universes that existed would probably be more than he could comprehend. All splitting, over and over, after each major event... into infinity?

_Different universes, different dimensions within them... And all that just touches the surface of what we can perceive, or even theorize, about this life. And when we leave it, how can we know that what's beyond isn't just as full of possibilities as this one is?_

_I'd like to think Mom and Dad are together. That they died together and have moved on together._

_And, maybe, she's living a happier existence, with Dad to take care of her, making sure no one ever manipulates or uses her ever again._

Which brought up another question.

"What about personal relationships, in your universe? My mother said that your Kirk never married. Were he and Doctor McCoy ever a couple?"

Ambassador Spock shook his head. "To my knowledge, they were neither a couple, nor 'friends with benefits'. Although they were very close and protective of each other. But certainly, the lack of any physical exchanges between them does not denote a lesser bond. I do find it interesting that both versions of you have given McCoy the same nickname,  _Bones_ , which the Doctor never allowed anyone else to use in my universe," Ambassador Spock told him. "Also, I have noticed something I find oddly amusing."

"Oh?"

"In my universe, Doctor McCoy's eyes were almost the exact same shade as yours," Ambassador Spock said with a raised eyebrow. "And Kirk's eyes almost the exact same shade of hazel as your McCoy's."

Jim smiled. "That is a strange coincidence."

"Sometimes, I believe the universe indulges itself in very strange ways," Ambassador Spock said. "Which is not a very logical observation, I'm afraid."

"Not very logical, but may be very wise," Jim said with amusement. "What about you and your Uhura?"

"She was a most intelligent, resourceful, strong, dependable, and loving person," Ambassador Spock said, his voice gone soft as he remembered her. "But no, we were never attracted to each other in that way. She later married a very accomplished and devoted man, an engineer by trade, and lived a full and happy life."

They came upon Winona and George Kirk's memorial trees again. Both stopped for a moment.

"She wanted him back and she would have killed the three of us if she'd succeeded," Jim said softly. "Right now, I don't know whether I'm supposed to be horribly angry with her, damned sorry for her, or something in between. Mostly, I don't think I feel anything at all. I'm sort of... numb. I worry about Sam. This has hit him hard. I think he always had some hope she'd change. But I know she wouldn't have."

"I believe, as a human, you are allowed to be at any point on that spectrum, at any given time." Ambassador Spock turned to him, his eyes filled with sympathy. "Allow yourself to grieve in your own way, Jim. Cherish those you love, and your friendships, for as long as you're able. And if you find yourself faced with the details of the history of my James Tiberius Kirk, do  _not_  compare yourself to him. You are not him, and he was not you, which is the way it should be. Your destiny is your own, Jim. Never believe otherwise."

Jim nodded, feeling touched. " _Thank you_. For trusting me with the truth. With all of it."

"You are welcome, James T. Kirk."

They both turned back to walk back to the shuttles, content to finish it in silence.

 

 

 

***

Epilogue

***

 

 

Jim Kirk walked tiredly through the _Enterprise_ , on his way to his cabin with his PADD in hand. He had three mandatory reports to finish and a supply requisition from Scotty he needed to approve before sending it on. But he could do that from home.

_I need to catch up with Bones tonight. Find some downtime to spend with him. Seems like we keep just missing each other these last few weeks._

Two weeks since his mother's memorial service, Starfleet had kept him and his crew on the move. There had been some short emergency vaccine runs, some tussles between a few neighboring planets to deal with, more engineering tests of new software for various systems on the ships... all that had kept them on the move and filling out a ton of paperwork.

And soon they were going to be sent even further into unknown space than they'd gone before. So, there was all the preparations for that to be handled before they ventured out into new territory.

Being busy had kept him from dwelling on his mother's memory too much, but he wasn't sure that was a good thing. Bones seemed to be walking on eggshells around him, waiting for Jim to react in some particular way. He didn't know how Bones expected him to react, since Jim wasn't sure that he actually felt anything at all.

_He lost his mother as a child, knowing how much she loved him. I've lost mine as an adult, and I know she didn't really value me at all. Not as I am, for who I am. I understand his concerns, but we're on a whole different wavelength here. There may be nothing left for me to feel. I just want to get back to normal, and not have him worry so much. I'm fine._

Their cabin was empty. He got himself some coffee and sat down at his desk. Before he could type in any commands, the list of daily reminders came up on his screen and he froze. At the top was the reminder...

 

**Schedule Mom's birthday call.**

 

It hit him then, all the memories of his mother. Every time she yelled at him, scolded him, along with the times when he crawled into her lap and she let him, played before him as if it was real time. The times he swore she looked at him with something warm in her eyes. The times he wasn't sorry he'd gotten in trouble because then she'd have to call him over subspace.

The times he'd been desperate for her to say, just  _once_ , that she loved him and  _mean_  it.  _Really_  mean it. When it wasn't just something she'd been expected to say because that's what parents said to needy, clingy children.

And how he felt when it never happened during the moments it could have. When it should have. And he saw now how he'd buried that hope behind a thick wall built of self-preservation and peppered with solid chunks of self-doubt. Over time, a wall hardened by fear that he was desperate for something he didn't deserve, and would never find.

And it  _hurt_.

That wall crumbled. Longings, fears, and the burnt, dead remnants of lost hope swirled around him, burying him in feelings he could neither ignore nor control.

When Bones walked in, he found Jim sobbing uncontrollably at his desk.

Bones held him close, rubbed his back soothingly, and told him over and over how much he was loved and cherished.

Jim was safe, so he let it happen, and wallowed in his husband's support and love. He admitted to the man he loved that he was selfish, that he was crying for himself, not her. That he'd been angry at her for so long, he was afraid that was all he had left of her.

Bones told him that was okay. Grief had many stages, and he could take them at his own speed.

Then, later, when the tears had stopped, but not dried, Jim took his husband to bed and showed him how much he was loved in return.

It wasn't the end of his grieving, but it was, finally, the start.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I want to thank my Beta. Any mistakes left are mine, because I tend to mess with things after all the great work my Beta puts in. 
> 
> Second, I want to thank everyone reading for putting up with my headcanon theory on this universe and how it fits with the original. I hope it doesn't mess with yours too much, but if I figure I might as well get it in there. One of the perks in writing your own stories is to make everyone else read about your pet theories.
> 
> Third, I did not plan on this coming out anywhere near Mother's Day. Never even entered my mind, as I've been trying to work out Winona's story for months. It just worked out that way and is kind of creepy.
> 
> Fourth, to maybe leave things on a lighter note, while working on this one of my Facebook lists posted a story prompt. My response is below. It doesn't really fit anywhere particular, so you can mentally stick it where you want it. Lol.
> 
> Prompt:  
> "Shut Up."  
> "I didn't say anything."  
> "Don't care. Shut up."
> 
> My response to that prompt:
> 
>    
> "Shut up."
> 
> "I didn't say anything," Jim Kirk said casually, eyes on the PADD in his hands. He kept pretending to read the book he'd chosen for their sightseeing trip to one of Deneva's choice tourist spots. 
> 
> Around them both, the crowded shuttle buzzed with low voices. Everyone busy visiting or trying to conduct business. Many were children, who laughed and played games in their seats.
> 
> "Don't care. Shut up," McCoy said grumpily, arms crossed over his chest.
> 
> "So defensive!" Jim said mildly, trying to control his amused smile as he made that tsking sound that he knew McCoy hated. "We all know that some people get air sick. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. It's not the first shuttle you've thrown up--"
> 
> "Don't remind me," McCoy interrupted with a grimace. His face was still slightly red, and Jim knew it was from more than his momentary sickness. "I shouldn't have had that alien shellfish for lunch. I don't care how Terran compatible that menu is, or if this is a Terran colony. Some things they shouldn't be serving to humans."
> 
> "I had the same thing and I'm fine."
> 
> "Shut up."
> 
> Jim grinned. "And they were very nice, asking you if you needed a doctor."
> 
> McCoy sighed, closing his eyes and hugging himself tighter.
> 
> "Even though you are a doctor," Jim continued. He fought down the chuckles that were bubbling up in his chest. "And that couple was very nice to lend you a shirt, because you'd ruined the one you were wearing. Especially since it would have been against the shuttle's rules to go without one. I'm sure we're all grateful that your shirt is safely tucked into the back of the shuttle, keeping the rest of us from having to smell--"
> 
> "Fine," McCoy interrupted with a sigh. "Just come out with it. Get it over with. I can tell you're just dying to say it. Just don't tell me you didn't take a picture, since I know you'd be lying. And if I find it, I'm destroying it. Get that clear."
> 
> "Too late," Jim said, one chuckle escaping. "Your Dad now has a copy."
> 
> Grimacing, eyes closed, McCoy's sigh turned into a groan.
> 
> "But you have a wonderful décolletage," Jim said, the chuckles now escaping. "Very fetching, especially with the chest hair."
> 
> Jim couldn't keep it in, the chuckles caught up with him, and he started to laugh.
> 
> Sitting beside Jim, now wearing a bright pink, very low-cut, mid-riff top with tiny ribbons, bows and sequins on the shoulders, McCoy gave Jim a glare.
> 
> "I'm just so glad I married you," McCoy huffed, turning even redder as he noticed some of the other passengers sneaking a peek at him. "A lifetime of this ahead of me."
> 
> "I know," Jim said around his laughter. "Isn't it great?"
> 
> A smile tugged at the corner of McCoy's mouth. "Yeah. Yeah it is."


End file.
